I reach for a card from the top of my tarot deck. The first card I pick is: Strength, upright.
I draw again: Nine of Swords, upright.
The image for the Nine of Swords is a woman sitting upright, anxious and in distress. Not a good omen at all. But I also posses the strength card, the woman and the lion, so there might be hope for me yet.
From my basic understanding of tarot card reading, each card relates to another.
I attempt to connect the narratives to one another.
I remember a conversation I had with my fiance a couple of days prior. From what I can recall I remember us having a discussion about how much I loathed critique in my Non Fiction class.
I was so frustrated with being ripped apart for my prose and my formatting. Constantly going back to the editing board and still having at least one person still unsatisfied.
What more do you want me to do? What more do you want from me, this is how I write! Perhaps the reason why I drew the nine of swords was because of this frustration.
Nothing and I mean nothing, will ever be good enough, there will always be a very special and specific group of people that will harshly critique your work no matter what, and I believe through this realization I happened to draw the strength card.
As I attempt to bridge the narrative from both cards, I relate the conversation I had back with my fiance. I know the merits of constructive criticism and how artists thrive on it to grow, but I can also understand the frustrations that can come along with it.
Maybe what the cards are telling me is to, if I could say it so bluntly, have thicker skin; to not let every critique destroy me. To learn from those critiques and to grow from them. If there are those who still do not like my writing well there is nothing I can do about that.
Not everyone likes Hemingway.
Or Emily Dickinson.
But on the other hand there are also critics who like a good dose of Hemingway or Faulkner. As the cliche saying goes: you cannot win them all.
You are the writer, painter, composer, and artist to your own canvas; to your own blank page. The colors you decide to use to fill your canvas, or the story you want to write about should not be deterred by others who simply cannot see the merit in it.