Insights After Releasing A Failed Photo Project
For the better part of last year, I was working on something that at times felt like it was all-consuming. The idea was to create a series of photographs and offer them as a limited edition set.
Releasing your art isn’t a new concept- many photographers regularly release zines or prints to promote their work. However, putting together a larger scale project like this was a first for me, and I found publishing a cohesive series of prints to be quite the undertaking to complete.
After many months of planning, shooting, and designing my project (which was limited to 50 printed copies). It sold a grand total of *drum-roll, please* only one copy.
During the creation phases of the project, I was on cloud nine. Taking an idea and incubating it from non-existence through birthing a final, tangible result was exhilarating.
Survey Says: Nope
When I shared updates about the project, people seemed to rally around what I was doing. I had multiples of people commenting and messaging about how they were going to purchase a set, and how they thought the images were excellent. However, when it was actually released and available there was only silence. Silence, and no sales.
Understandably, this hit me in the feeler-plexus. Initially, I thought what bothered me about the lack of sales was all of the lost time and expense that I invested into the project, but after more reflection, I think it goes deeper than that.
Rejection.
I started mentally listing all of the possibilities of what I assumed reasons for the failure could be. I came up with all types of answers. Things like;
- Your photography isn’t good enough
- People don’t want to buy from no-name artists
- Your photography isn’t good enough
- The price for the set was too high
- Your photography literally sucks
Uncovering the Truth
After a lot of thought and reflection- I believe the disappointment stems from me seeking validation for my work in the form of monetary compensation. Maybe to feel like my art was ‘good enough’ it had to be purchased. While I had friends offering kind words and some ‘likes’ on posted images from the series, ultimately I was hoping to have my art be desirable enough that people would want to own it.
Over the years I’ve purchased many zines, prints, and art from friends who were promoting and selling their work. In a way, I guess I view parting with a few dollars as a gesture of backing up that verbal support. In addition to some free ‘atta-boys’ via likes and comments I was hoping for something along the lines of “here, take some of my hard-earned money for what you’ve created”.
Cha-ching. Validation.
The Harsh Reality
However, now that the sting of failure has worn down, I can see there are a few silver linings.
The first is that I gained a lot of knowledge putting this release together. I now have an honorary doctorate in Googling after completing hours of online searches learning how to correctly prepare and print fine artwork.
Most importantly though, the main takeaway was a realization that unfortunately, people don’t care as much as you’d hope them to. That sounds a bit nihilistic, but I actually mean this from a positive sense.
Figuring this out is a blessing because it shines a bright light on my priorities. Why exactly am I making art? Is it for the validation of other people, or is it because I feel the need to create. I know it started out as the latter, but somewhere along the line, I must have strayed from the path.
I’m going to say it again because it’s so important.
People don’t care as much as you’d hope them to.
This realization is so absolutely freeing. I can clearly see now just how much of my worth I placed in the opinions of other people when it came to what I was creating.
Not only is this a recipe for an unhealthy relationship with your art, but it’s also not fair to your friends. It puts an unknown expectation on people that if they don’t react to your work in a way that you wish they would, it ultimately leads to disappointment.
Moving Forward
Failure always hurts, I’m genuinely thankful that I was able to experience this one. It has made me rethink my priorities behind what motivates me to create art, and also ask myself what might be other ways I’m seeking validation. Social media? In-person conversations? Even this article?
While I did in fact question my motive behind writing this, I feel it’s the catharsis from processing these thoughts that’s meaningful to me and not any potential reactions to them.
I’m only in my early forties, so I have plenty of mileage to go, and a lot of art to create yet. As with many other realizations in middle age, a small part of me wishes that I could have figured this out sooner, but I suppose if that was the case then the journey wouldn’t be as interesting.
