Adapting To Rejection

He reread the letter for the fourteenth or fifteenth time.

How could he have not won? It was a contest for the best painting of a dog, and that’s all he did!

He reread the letter for the fifteenth or sixteenth time.

After a few moments, he looked over at the canvas he was currently working on. For the first time, he looked at it with a truly critical eye. He gazed at the haphazard brushstrokes, the random proportions and the overall sloppy, at best, presentation.

He screwed up the letter and tossed it. He painted for himself, after all.