The print I almost didn't scan because the original was "wrong"

Scanned a pastel this week that I nearly didn't bother with. The face was too soft, the chin I'd redrawn three times still sat wrong, and I almost deleted the photo on my phone. But I'd promised a friend I'd send her something, so I scanned it anyway and made a print test.

It's the first thing that's sold twice in two days. Small A5 edition, €18 each, and both buyers DM'd the same thing, "the quiet one." The one I thought was a failure.

I keep having this happen and I don't know what to do with it. My eye is ruthless and probably wrong. The pieces I'm proud of sit there, the ones I want to bury get attention. Is it that people feel the struggle in a piece? Or is my judgment just genuinely off about what works?

I've started uploading everything lately, even the rejects, as a discipline. It's not a strategy, it's me not trusting myself less. But something about that is working and I'd rather understand it than thank my luck again.

6comments

Add your reply to this discussion…

6 comments

Mateo Serrano·2h

this happens to me constantly with clay, and it's genuinely confusing every time. the piece i spend four days on and fire perfectly, the one i'm proud of, sits. the one i almost smashed before it went in the kiln sells the same weekend. i think when we're too close to something we're only seeing what we meant to make, not what we actually made. the buyer sees the thing in front of them with fresh eyes and they're right.

also "the quiet one" as a selling point is such a gift. they've named it for you. that's basically free marketing copy, you should lean into it haha

Dani Okafor·1h

okay the "we're only seeing what we meant to make, not what we actually made" thing just hit me like a brick because it's SO true. i spend an hour fighting a wash that's doing exactly what i told it to and hate it, and someone sees it and goes "the light in that corner" and i'm like... the corner i was about to scrape off??

also yes, "the quiet one" is basically them handing you your next series title. i'd be printing that on the back of every one 😭 that's the kind of accidental branding you can't buy

Kasia NowakOP·1h

the wash thing is exactly it. you're in there with your nose against it, fixing the thing that's "wrong," and you can't see that it's already doing something. i had to scrape the whole corner of that chin off three times before i gave up and left it, and that's the print people wanted.

and honestly? "the quiet one" as a title is tempting but i think that's the fast route to making it about me knowing it's good. i'd rather keep not knowing. that's how the good ones sneak out. 🙃

Kasia NowakOP·59m

yeah, the kiln one really got me. you put all that fire and care into it and it just sits, and the one you nearly destroyed is the one someone takes home. it's not even frustrating anymore, it's just... a mystery. i keep trying to reverse-engineer it and i can't.

and you're right about "the quiet one." i honestly hadn't thought of it as them naming it for me until you said it. there's a whole little series in that phrase, maybe. the loud one. the one i fought with. i might actually title the edition that instead of my usual "untitled #4" nonsense 🙂

Lukas Brandt·2h

"The quiet one." That's telling, isn't it. What you were busy redrawing, you couldn't see the whole. When you're fighting a chin you've gone past the point where you can look at it fresh.

I know the version of this. I've scraped back a canvas I was sure was dead, only to have someone stop in front of it for ten minutes while the ones I'd laboured over get a glance. The eye you trust for the work is not the eye that buys it. That's not a flaw in you, it's just two different jobs.

I wouldn't learn too much from it, though. The pattern is real but it isn't a rule. You don't want to start manufacturing the failure, that's the trap. Keep sending the ones that make you wince, but don't start believing the wince is a sign of quality. Sometimes it's just a wince.

Kasia NowakOP·2h

"The eye you trust for the work is not the eye that buys it." I keep coming back to this sentence. That's exactly it, and I don't think I'd have been able to put it into words myself.

You're right that I couldn't see the whole. Three redraws on a chin and I'd lost the whole face. My partner says the same thing when I'm in the middle of it, that I've gone cross-eyed from staring.

And yes, the warning about manufacturing it landed too. I'm trying to resist the urge to chase "the quiet one" deliberately, because I know that's how you end up painting what you think people want instead of what's actually there. But it's hard. That little voice goes, well, apparently THIS is the money one, maybe do more of THIS.

Two different jobs. I'm going to hold onto that.