Disappointment has a way of revealing truth — not just about others, but about ourselves. Recently, I faced a situation that left me questioning the professionalism and integrity of certain people in the art world. It involved a curator, a gallery, and an event organiser who presented themselves as reputable, but whose actions told a very different story.
From the beginning, I was transparent and cooperative. I paid the participation fees in good faith, completed all the preparation, and met every requirement. Yet, after more than three months of confirmation and readiness, I was suddenly told that my works were no longer accepted. The decision came at the last moment, after all the effort, time, and expense had already been made.
What made it worse was the reasoning given — that my participation in another gallery’s exhibition somehow reflected poorly on me, because they deemed that gallery “inferior.” The irony is painful. How can anyone claim to champion art and then demean another gallery or artist based on their own elitist view of what is “worthy”?
Even more absurd was the curator’s comment that he was “afraid I wouldn’t follow through.” whike pressuring me to pay before I was selected. Yet here I am, the one who paid, prepared, and delivered everything as promised — while they were the ones who failed to follow through on their commitment. It revealed the hypocrisy behind polished smiles and curated words.
There is also something fundamentally wrong with the idea of artists being made to pay to participate, only to be treated with such disregard. When art becomes a transaction rather than a dialogue, the soul of it is lost. True curators and organisers lift others; they don’t exploit or manipulate them under the guise of opportunity and mentorship.
What disappointed me most was not just being excluded, but the arrogance behind it. To look down on others, to belittle galleries, to create artificial hierarchies in a field meant to celebrate creativity — that is not refinement. That is insecurity wearing sophistication as a mask.
Still, despite the frustration, I have chosen gratitude. This experience, as unpleasant as it was, has shown me what kind of people and organisations I no longer wish to align with. It reminded me that ethics, humility, and kindness are worth far more than association with self-proclaimed “prestige.”
Perhaps this was the universe’s quiet way of protecting me from deeper entanglements — from spaces built on ego rather than integrity. I am thankful that I learned this lesson now, before losing more time, energy, or peace.
I will continue creating art with honesty and heart. I will continue to walk my path with those who believe in authenticity over elitism, collaboration over control, and art over politics.
Disappointment hurts, but it also clears the path. It shows us where not to go, who not to trust, and what truly matters. And for that clarity, I am grateful.
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