A passion. A profession. The business of art. A daily artistic survival juggling act. Advantageous art avenues researched. Commissions accepted. Teaching what you have learned. The coveted collector. Galleries. A “reliable” source of income for an artist. A contradiction in terms. Tasked to assess a dollar amount to the subjective sale. Establishing a market value. A quest into the abyss…
A few years back I had drawn a charcoal image of a moose. A study. A lifetime of studying form, movement, strength, and grace was sketched out on white cold press paper. An abstract version of the largest member of the deer family was made into prints. Copies have been sold primarily in Vermont. My inventory at the local art center and gallery needed to be replenished. Always happy news for this artist.
I agreed to stop by to drop the prints off at the gallery and pop into the business office to pick up my check for teaching a painting class this Fall. A framed copy of my print just behind the desk of the marketing manager caught my eye. I mentioned it to her as I carefully cradled the new supply of prints with my left arm. A warm smile grew on her face as she began to tell me the story of her 13-year-old son having purchased the moose print using his own money. The image meant something to him as he loves to draw from nature. A kindred spirit had purchased my print. I processed her words as a warm smile grew on my face as well while goosebumps began to rise on my arms. I gasped. My breathing quieted to nearly a stop. “His first art purchase” she glowed. I understood the depth of her words as we both spend our days surrounded by all things art. We knowingly nodded. I left the art center office gliding on the sweet air thinking about this sale of a lifetime…
“Some moments are nice, some are nicer, some are even worth writing about.” Charles Bukowski
