The judging is complete and each illustrator-judge picked a handful of paintings that they liked and wrote a bit about them. Mine wasn't chosen by anyone. And I can't blame them.
It's said that an artist is his/her own worst critic and the implication there is that we're too hard on ourselves. Define 'too hard'. There has to be an inner voice telling us when something sucks. That voice drives us to improve and produce our best work with our current skills. It's a fine line we walk when listening to that inner critic. We can't listen to the critic's suggestions that we suck so much we shouldn't start another drawing. That road leads to a trash can full of art supplies and discarded dreams. But we should listen to that critic when he's saying "Hey bud, that color isn't right. Scrape it off and try it again" even after scraping it off a dozen times. We need that critic to tell us when a thing sucks and needs to be re-done.
I let myself ignore my inner critic. I convinced myself that my painting for this challenge was 'good enough'. I didn't go the extra mile for it and I have reaped the results of it. This all can quickly spin into a discussion of what is considered 'good' and it's all relative. It all depends on what you're comparing the artwork to. But there's another kind of 'good' that matters the most...the kind of 'good' that the inner critic sees. I know what that painting was supposed to look like and I let it leave my computer and go into a contest looking nothing like what I had wanted. The inner critic was right and I ignored him.
Never again.
A picture must please me first and foremost or it never leaves my hands. Indeed, if I'm not pleased with a piece it won't survive the night. The most telling part of of all this is when the entries were all posted, mine among them, my wife and I thought it would be fun to pick our favorites. Neither of us chose mine.
Food for much, much thought.
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