Storytime:
When I was 20, I was invited to an art festival to exhibit along with all the famous painters from my city. It took place in the middle of the biggest town mall, perfectly located so everyone would pass by and see it.
All the painters exhibiting graduated from the only Art school in the country, they all knew each other and were like a cult. Any artist that didn't study or paint with them, was not welcomed into their pack. They all painted in oil or acrylics, hung out every night, and lived the starving artist's life.
During the festival, I was the only artist exhibiting drawings, in black and white. My work didn’t get much attention, but during the festival, every day I would see all the artists gather around to critique my work, behind my back.
I became their target as they looked like hyenas in a corner.
At the time I had mixed feelings, I knew I didn't want to be one of them, but also didn't know what I wanted to be.
This was one of the reasons I took a business path, swearing never to be a starving artist who only found validation by belittling other artists.
(A decade later, those artists are in the same place, living the same life over and over again.)