Like a dream but not
Yesterday was another beautiful sunny spring day. Our farmer's market has started up, bringing business to the town square where my studio is housed. This also brings many people into our galleries after they have bought their fresh produce. I decided I would go to the gallery on a Saturday, I was a little disappointed when the crowds were not that big, and not many of my studio mates were there. I cleaned up my studio from the weeks painting, and just listened to music and then I left after a couple of hours.
Once home, I had some vegan sushi and sat in the sun, planning to just watch a film and work on my taxes. After a while my phone rang, I didn't recognize the number, but I answered it anyway, it was the gallery attendant on duty. "There is a woman here who really likes one of your paintings in the back vault, she just wishes it was bigger, is there any way you can get down here and speak with her." Yes, I think I can, and I was back at the studio in twenty minutes.
I walk in to find the woman with one of my studio mates, chatting in his studio. I introduce myself, and we go back to the gallery and talk about the work she liked. I take her back to my studio as well, and we look at my inventory of paintings. I suggest we pull them out of my cramped studio and put them in the gallery as well, so she can really see them. We both carry several paintings to the back vault, at one point I think she had about fifteen or so pieces to choose from. She starts showing me photographs of her home, that she has recently redone. Beautiful and modern but no art. She has wanted art in her home for a while, and she really wants to make this happen, but she has always been intimidated by art and galleries. We talk about music, art, Oregon, and she asks various questions. We look at the art, and we sit. She talks about the paint colors in her home. I suggest we use the process of elimination, we turn the pieces that she isn't responding to towards the wall, and then we create groupings of certain works. I leave her alone every now and then, and tell her to play with the works, that she can't hurt them and to go with the ones she responds to the most. I go and get more art out of my studio. She starts getting more and more comfortable around the art, and starts making choices and imagining them in her home. Suddenly, she picks one for her office. Then she puts together three pieces for her great room wall, then she picks one for over the fire place, and then has two together for a guest room or her bed room, and then a couple more! She is excited, she is feeling confident, she updates her facebook status," ______________ is an art collector!"
She buys nine of my paintings!!!!
I then ring up this purchase, a long and overly complex process, and I have to keep it together, and focus. I am screaming with joy inside, my hands are shaking and the muscles in my arms feel like vibrating rubber bands. Is this really happening, is a young woman, a first time art collector, buying nine of my paintings? Am I really writing all these titles down? I am, I watch my pen glide over the receipt book. These are my hands, breathe, this is my name, breathe, these are my paintings. This is my largest sale all at once ever. This is my patron.
I am still smiling.
Thank you to everyone who has wished for a sale for me recently, and for all your supportive comments about my art. I really appreciate you all.