As I sit here... in Olympia, Washington... in the wake of my fourth wonderful job interview in so many months... I can't help but get nostalgic at the amount of rejection I've experienced in my time--creatively and professionally. Lots of it. Gobs of it. Loads of it. From residencies... ..to painting marathons and juried blasts.... ..to the abusive ex-lover you can't escape from and keep running back to... Artown... It's hard not to look back at the last seven years and wonder if you broke a mirror somewhere.
It's hard not to look back and wonder if someone at the head of the line or with the ear to The Man isn't fucking with ya on purpose. It's hard to be grateful for all the rejections in an effort to be content with who you've become and where you are today.... ... but my goodness I'm trying.
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Mallory Mishlerwhere i'll post the in's, out's, tween's, and twixt's of my world of art mixed with pictures, links, opinions, and rants. (oh, and curse words. lots of curse words) Archives
September 2018
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