Skin As Thick As Tissue Paper

Recently I entered a photo contest on an online forum.  There are no prizes in this competition, just the pride of entering a photograph the artist feels best represents the theme of the week.  The voters, who determine the winner, are members of the forum, not obscure “judges” with even obscurer tastes.  I like that.  I also like the feel of the forum because it seems we’re all trying to learn and grow our photographic skills.

I’d entered the contest a number of times prior and did pretty well.  I have yet to enter a photograph that garners the most votes, but I’ve been happy with the results as a whole.  Until last time, that is.

Without going into details, I spent an afternoon setting up my shot.  Once I had everything arranged I sprinted behind the tripod and started clicking the shutter.  A few moments later Pudgy, our cat, decided to check out my composition and jumped in the middle of my, um, artistic vision.  Noooooo!  I rearranged the items, shoo’d her from the room, and took more shots.  After a little tweaking of contrast and so on, I submitted my work.

The contest runs about a week, and then the votes and results are made known.  When I entered my picture the contest was about midway through its run. Many of the photographs were lovely, really lovely, but I felt they were not consistent with the theme of the contest.  My heart beat faster thinking I might have an edge this time.  After all, I was following the rules AND being creative.  How could I not do well?

During the next few days I began to notice new entries with an idea very similar to mine.  Some even had the same props!  Oh oh.

When the contest ended I checked to see how my photograph had faired.  Not a single vote.  Not.  One.  I was crushed.  Those photographs that suspiciously echoed my vision did very well, which pushed me further under emotionally.  As much as I tried to be optimistic about lessons learned and trying harder next time, I felt, well, used.  My husband reminded me that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but I just couldn’t get my head around the results.  Why had I tanked?

As I thought about the situation I remembered that once those similar photographs started appearing, my self-doubts grew quickly.  I even said something like, “Oh sure, I had the idea and now others will take it and make it better.”  I put the negative energy out there, and, surprise, surprise, that’s exactly what I got in return.

I entered the contest again yesterday.  But this time I’m going to set my intentions to render positive results.  I may even go crazy and  turn the good feeling vibration to “eleven.”  (Yep. A Spinal Tap reference.)  I can’t control what others do, but I can control my own actions.  That is a lesson I’m apparently still in need of learning no matter how old I get.