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 A bit ago, the Arts Mill had a call for art for the BIG show.

I was excited to participate-NSAA is near and dear to me. And it would be my first attempt to paint (and sell) a large canvas.

I was pretty proud of the painting I created. 

I submitted it.

It was not accepted into the show.


I’m not going to pretend this didn’t sting.

Or that thoughts of “well, it’s clear I’m not a painter. I wonder who I should donate my paint supplies to?” didn’t cross my mind.

But I always go through the “poor me” stage. After all-being an author means that rejection isn’t new to me. 

When I dusted myself off from all of that, I asked the Arts Mill’s director, if I could pay her for a critique of my art now that the show (without my painting) was over. (I get critiques for my writing-why not have a critique on my painting?)

She was straightforward and shared her exquisite wisdom in a gentle and kind way, which is the perfect blend for learning.

The painting that came forth next on that same canvas was layers and layers of learning mixed with trying shown in shades of blues and reds, white, and grays.

It has mistakes painted on top of and grown from.

I KNOW it isn’t a masterpiece. But…

it has patience and humility, understanding, appreciation, and plain old “don’t give up” all mixed together in tubes of oils and hours of time. 

Eventually I finished it.
There was no show to enter it in. 

So I brought it to the mill when it was closed so no one would be around.

I hung it up in my space-a back corner, behind a table in a non-prominent spot. 

I learned today, that within 5 days, it was sold.

It’s the most I’ve ever earned on a painting. 

But most importantly-it’s by far the most I’ve learned, 
and enjoyed…while painting.

It was a beautiful way to remember to appreciate the entire process of creativity and colors…with a sprinkle of humility and a bucketful of gratitude. 


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