(Written to: "Awake My Soul" Mumford & Sons)

First, please note the first of two distinctions:

I was not rejected. My work was rejected.

If I personalize it and mis-identify my work as my self, I will develop a chip on my shoulder.

In a piece's creation, it's important to pour your soul into your work.

In rejection, it is healthy to put some space between your soul and the piece.

“In a piece’s creation, it’s important to pour your soul into your work. In rejection, it is healthy to put some space between your soul and the piece.”

The second distinction is that I didn't say "if my work is rejected." I said "when."

After receiving the email that afternoon that my work had been rejected, I called my mother late that night to speak with her. I mentioned that I had entered an art contest and my work was not chosen.

She began poetically as she often does: "Well, you know, Trisha, a lot of artists have their work rejected at some point. That's the thing about art," she went on to remind me, "it's entirely subjective."

“Being rejected doesn’t mean that a piece is bad; it’s just not what the person was looking for.”

Being rejected doesn't mean that a piece is bad; it's just not what the person was looking for.

Maybe it's not the gallery's style. Maybe the person who made the decision was having a shitty day. Maybe another director at the gallery would have approved. Maybe they hated it and circulated my submission around the company in an email where everybody took a turn laughing at it.

If I wrest my sense of purpose and value as an artist from others' approval, I wouldn't be a great artist.

“If I wrest my sense of purpose and value as an artist from others’ approval, I wouldn’t be a great artist.”

It's not that I don't care what people think and feel about my work. I'd like them to like it. But if God approves a piece that people despise, honestly who gives a damn?

I answer to no one except my God and my self.

And I will always stand behind my work.

TRISHA WILES