When you sell a painting, an initial surge of adrenaline reminds you that your heart is actually a pump, a motor, and it revs into high gear. After all, we create in order to share our passion with others. And the goal of every painting I create is to add a story to the many rooms of someone's existence, both external and internal. I want people to open doors with my art, to imagine new worlds, to walk into new spaces of light, joy, and sometimes even pain—because we often stuff our hurt into corners and we need to uncover it in order to grow. Selling is standing on stage and having people love the song you are singing.
But selling also brings about a sense of letting go—a meditative goal. Sometimes a little melancholy sets in as we say goodbye to our creations.
So often two competing emotions arise—joy and sadness. It's a state of being I find impossible to describe with words, but come closer to with my art. Which is why I paint, Which is why I sell. Which is why we must say goodbye in order to grow as an artist. Which is why we simply say thank you to our buyers, to the mystery of letting go, to the ethereal world of making art.
I said goodbye to "Spirit of Delight" this week. As I wrapped it, I said a blessing over it asking that the owners sense hope, peace , and renewal through its existence in their home. I said I was grateful. I said goodbye.
