It’s almost like this is the whole point

I started selling my paintings in 2021. Some pieces I have held onto for a couple years before they’ve found a home, some sold seconds after being listed in my online shop or within minutes of opening my booth at an art fair. Others are still in my studio, lying in a pile among other experiments.

This week, a collector shared a photo of one of my originals that she purchased at Park Point Art Fair a couple weekends ago. When I got the Instagram notification, I couldn’t stop going back to look at it.

There was something about the way that it was styled in her home, so uniquely. Surrounded by sweet little porcelain birds and dried flowers. The wall color complimented the piece just so, bringing out the blue in the sky and the mat I chose fit perfectly with her trim.

I spend a lot of time with my art. I pore over the details, I have hemmed and hawed over stain colors for my frames, I have contemplated the hassle of a double-mat, I have styled them all together in my booth, curating it just so — this piece next to this and that one next to that. I often see them as a whole — collections, a series, a fully stocked shop. I’m close to these paintings in a way no one else is.

Because of this, I don’t get to see them through your eyes. I never will. I feel how the piece feels for me, but I don’t get to know what it feels like for you, not really. In these moments of admiring “Ode to a Tamarack Bog II” on this shelf, I realized that this is what I want for every single one of my paintings. For them to end up somewhere I might not be able to imagine. On a sliver of wall in a sunlit hallway, in the nursery you designed for your brand new little boy. Against pine paneling above your mantel, or in your bedroom, the first thing you see when you open your eyes each day.

Sharing art is such a special thing. It is truly a gift to know little pieces of your heart find a way to settle into someone else’s life. And it’s almost like this is the whole point — selling it, I mean. To create? That process is mine. But as soon as a painting is finished, as soon as I put down the brush and I step away, I have released it from my grip. I have set it free. From this moment it is no longer mine, it’s yours.