Thoughts About Rejection.
One man's trash is another man's treasure. In this case, can discarded work inspire us to do better?
Lately, I have been grappling with the concept of rejection quite a bit. Maybe my rumination on the topic is the byproduct of a short text I wrote as an introduction to CRSL’s “Rejected” project, maybe it’s the result of some more profound inner work I have been doing.
Nonetheless, I have noticed there’s a common pattern following the uncomfortable feeling produced by being rejected.
It’s a medley of negative emotions that vary from rage to sadnesses, passing through disappointment, only to end in either two ways: motivation or crippling depression (or imposter syndrome).
Whether the heartbreak is inflicted by a romantic interest or a professional relationship, the first reaction is almost always denial.
“How could they say NO to me?” is the question that frequently pops up as an involuntary reflex to shield us from shame. Ironically, we are prompted to reject rejection to move forward.
We erect a fictional castle made of padded walls to hide in, cry if needed, and process the event irrationally. Rightfully so.
Studies suggest that being turned down has the same effects on our brains as breaking a bone. But while the pain inflicted by the latter can be easily tamed by tangible solutions such as medications or a cast, the hurt caused by social disavowal seems to have no quick fix. It’s insidious, visceral, and ghostlike.
It seems like there’s no productive way to numb the ache, thus we instinctively succumb to it.
Consequently, the outrage fades into a bitter sensation. Melancholia slowly begins to pour out the same way a ball of yarn unravels when a thread goes rogue; delicate and soundless until the ball is completely undone.
Bitterness then enters the last stage of its evolution.
At this point, we can either do something about it – such as harnessing the negative energy and turning it into an incentive to keep going – or allow it to shrink us before twirling us down the drain of self-loathing.
As creative professionals, we are often faced with dissent.
A big chunk of our time is spent crafting the perfect pitch, rehearsing our proposals, and asking our peers for feedback with the goal to refine the work and have a better chance at getting through to the executives of those companies we dream of associating with.
If you are an independent contractor, the bar is even higher.
Your whole career is based on the premise of being an excellent salesman. Perfecting your craft isn’t enough, you also need to be competitive.
The service itself isn’t the pivot of a successful transaction, your public relations skills are.
Needless to say, the gargantuan pressure caused by the concoction of “must-dos” constantly hovering above the creative process frequently hinders us from crafting something even remotely worthy of a business presentation. So it’s a double bind – how can we offer good work if our minds are obstructed by commercial viability?
Working on “REJECTED” made me reflect on the consternation spawned by cold-emailing numerous press outlets to get a personal project I have been working on with a photographer (and friend) I admire, Santi De Hita, published.
Back in January, we spent a week in Palermo to document the city, its people, and the raw energy of my hometown to narrate its charm in the most authentic way possible.
While I cannot share much about the final output yet, the collaboration stemmed from Santi’s unintelligible need to get behind the ubiquitous contrast characteristic of the Sicilian metropolis after going there for the first time in late summer 2022.
As a pseudo-local, he reached out to help him satisfy this hunch and support him in the narration of a place so dear to me.
I saw an opportunity for redemption in the documentary.
I wanted to help him paint an unorthodox, yet hyper-authentic, picture of Palermo. One that transcends the clichés, the stereotypes, and the superficial perception the world has of this architectural wonder.
Yet, no matter how noble the motive or majestic the images, each and every publication I reached out to either didn’t respond despite the multiple follow-ups or told me it wasn’t for them.
For the first time, I decided to ask why. I didn’t want to let the rejection – and silent treatment – deter me from my enthusiasm. The one answer I received was interesting. I didn’t quite agree with the feedback but at least I had something to work with for future improvement.
This episode reminded me of a fellow writer and internet acquaintance, Martin Angus Jr., and his pursuit to get published in poetry journals.
There was a period last year when he would post every rejection email he received on his Instagram stories, daily.
The habit wasn’t built on spitefulness; conversely, it bore a positive message of light.
Each screenshot was paired with a brief text, sometimes it was a dove and sparkle emoji, that encouraged him (and consequently others) to keep going.
Initially, I didn’t understand why he would keep at it – both the sharing and the submitting. But in hindsight, his ritual inspired me to withstand my natural propensity for mortification and try again.
Not everybody will understand us, or our work, but that shouldn’t be a reason to give up on what we believe is good work.
CRSL’s elaboration of discarded artworks gave way to a beautiful experiment: three different football jerseys, three different patterns, and a super-duper innovative exploration of the intersection between sportswear and graphic design.
Had they left these designs buried in their hard drives and yielded to the sourness of rejection, they would have missed the opportunity to play – a crucial step in the long-winded journey that is the creative process.
Refusal thereby transfigures into practice. And what is practice if not a shot at getting better and staying ready for when our big break actually does arrive?
Some would call this a stoic approach – a philosophy I have never fully understood and recently has even taken some weird, dark turns following its implementation by Twitter bros – but I think it’s more a matter of mere optimism.
After all, dwelling on the downsides only magnifies the problem and incapacitates us from moving forward, ultimately triggering a never-ending downward cycle that leads us nowhere.
To end my weekly musing, I’d like to share an exercise that helps me find peace, as well as give me the strength to ring another bell whenever a door closes right in front of my face. I call it the “Pay It Forward.”
Whenever I don’t receive my desired outcome in a business transaction (or any other type of servicing), I take half a day off to help a person achieve their own goals.
The feeling of gratitude generated by helping others without the pressure to perform is so much stronger than it ends up overshadowing whatever despair we had going on.
While the disappointment may be too big at times, this practice is not only (selfishly) productive for our own sake, but it also fosters generosity and kindness. And trust me, we need it more than ever.
Things I think people should be aware of:
The way broccoli looks like when left to bloom
Modena FC’s new brand identity
Jumana Manna’s work
Lino’s yummy bread
Mumgry’s delicious nut spreads