A recent painting in its new home!
What was it like to be one of the Impressionists in the early days? Hardly anyone wanted to buy your outlandish work; sometimes you traded it for a meal. You painted quickly because you wanted to and needed to. And then you flogged the piece if you could, and it was gone. AND YOU NEVER HAD A PHOTOGRAPH OF IT!
I’m at the stage of having sold hundreds of painting by now. I don’t know how many and have quite forgotten some of the early ones. I had a poor camera and sometimes forgot to take a photo of a piece before it was sold. (I still occasionally do.) But by and large I have a record of my work.
(and here’s another, sent by Gillian):
It’s necessary to sell work: not just to make a living or create room in the house, but also to clear your mind. While older work is still around you it’s harder to move on to new ways of working, seeing and thinking. You soon learn to not miss any but a few special favourites when they go.
But it’s a special delight when buyers (people often hitherto unknown to you) send you photos of your work in its new home. This is ridiculously pleasing! Suddenly the painting has an afterlife. It’s leading its own existence independently of you. I’ve had a few such photos in the last weeks – so a big thank you, lovely buyers, it’s much appreciated!
(and here’s another – all three were favourites, especially this one):