This painting just sold. It was a bittersweet moment for me, heavy on the sweet, but pulled on my heartstrings nonetheless. I don’t keep much of my work. I love painting, love selling, love shipping, the entire arc of being a creative entrepreneur. I put a lot of love into what I’m doing and once complete it doesn’t belong to me anymore, it’s out in the world for the next person. This is called paying the bills. And keeping the foot on the gas. And being a working artist. And every now and then, those rational things take a back seat and I get attached to something and on almost every occasion if I get attached, I know someone else will too. It’s that feeling we are looking for in art, in words, in film, TV. Feeling something. In my case, I’m a sucker for nostalgia and sentiment. Not the sugary sappy stuff, but the weird quirky things that call me…a glass candy jar that my nana kept her humbugs in, old books, transfer ware, the smell of pie baking, the feel of the heavy card stock on a vintage flash card. The list could go on and does go on, ad infinitum. It’s my job as an artist to try to capture these little pockets of that feeling, those sweet snapshots of golden. xo
