​Ignoring My Instincts: A Lesson from My First Art Exhibit

This is Olympia, the very first painting I ever exhibited in a gallery show. Having my work on display was a dream come true, so why is it that every time I look at it, I think about a different piece I wish I had chosen instead?

Last photoshoot before submitting Olympia to the art gallery.

​My name is Joy, and I’m a self-taught artist. I never went to art school, and for a long time, the idea of having my artwork in a real gallery felt like a complete fantasy. I’ve been building my portfolio, learning from online tutorials, and developing my style as I go. Everything I create is a step in that journey, and getting accepted into this exhibit felt like a huge milestone.

This is the original Olympia (1st version). Jesse loved it as much as he loved nibbling on my paint brush.

​The exhibit drew a good crowd, and there were so many beautiful artworks, all made by talented artists I assume from different parts of the South Island here in New Zealand. I initially thought the event would be intimidating, but it was actually fun. My husband and in-laws came to support me and were so proud. I was able to release the pressure and focus on enjoying the other artworks and just being in the moment. It was a huge sigh of relief, allowing me to fully soak in the atmosphere. I wasn't expecting my painting to be sold—it was all about the experience. Even so, in the back of my mind, I couldn't get over the feeling that I should have selected a different piece.

​My Journey to the Exhibit

​A quick flashback: I joined a local art society in a small town on the South Island. I love art, but I also wanted to know what it felt like to be part of a community of like-minded people—to learn from them and participate in different art activities. I had never been part of an art community back in the Philippines. To be honest, I didn't even try. Life back then was all about survival. I worked in the hospitality industry most of my life, then transitioned to business process outsourcing as a corporate trainer (learning and development lead). I lived and worked in Manila, a city where the pace of life is nonstop. It was all about deadlines, proving myself, and making ends meet, leaving less room for a creative community.

​When I moved here in the summer of 2023, my life transitioned to the complete opposite. Now, more than ever, I have time to really pause, enjoy the beauty around me, focus on my art journey, and create as many pieces as I can. The meaning of "winning" has a different definition for me now. It’s not always about achieving something, competing, or proving myself to people. Winning sometimes means finding rest, peace of mind, more time for what you love, and having the confidence in being yourself without needing to prove anything. It’s about being able to pause and appreciate the beauty around you. In fact, that’s what the painting Olympia is actually about.

​When the local art society announced their annual exhibit, my eyes lit up. I was already working on Olympia at the time—a painting of a woman looking at her horse (scroll down for more photos). It’s a 48 by 60-inch acrylic painting that started as an abstract piece and that I painted over with shades of orange tones and soft pinks. I thought I could go ahead and register for the exhibit while still finishing the piece. I'm the type of person who gets excited easily, and I'd rather create the moment than wait for it. I’d rather jump in and feel ready than otherwise.

​A week before the exhibit, I took a week-long leave from work. I created a different painting (same size 48 by 60-inch) just because I had more time. I overloaded it with more elements: a woman, a horse, a little girl riding on the horse, and even my four cockatiels—Tuco, Lalo, Jesse, and Walter. I chose vibrant colors but I think I lost the loose, spontaneous feel I love in my work.

​I managed to finish it on time, just two days before the exhibit. I took photos and even launched my art website the weekend before the show. It all happened so fast, and I was consumed by excitement. But as I submitted my artwork for display, my inner critic began to notice something: I had lost my style in that new piece. The abstract element was no longer visible, the colors were different from my previous paintings, and it didn't align with the style I was building.

​That instinct was there while I was striving to finish the new painting, but I brushed it off.

Here's my mom-in-law gazing at the portrait of her favorite birds - Lalo, Tuco, Walter and Jesse.

I want to view this experience not as a mistake, but as a moment of clarity. I know now what it feels like to show my work and not feel fully represented by my choices. This insight will help me become a better artist and a more mindful person. My first exhibit taught me a powerful lesson about being more intentional with my art choices. Next time, I'll be sure to only show work that I am 100% passionate about.

​Have you ever had a moment like this, where you learned a big lesson from a seemingly small choice? Let me know in the comments. And if you want to follow my journey as I create my next body of work, be sure to follow me here on my website and on my socials! (Maybe I’ll create a YouTube channel soon so you can subscribe!)