How an artwork found a home.

How an artwork found a home.

I was trying to work, but my mobile phone was ringing.

It was a number neither my phone nor I recognized.

I was way behind in my painting, because I had spent the previous four weeks getting my brand-new website online. There had been so many photos to take and text to write. I’d barely had time to go into my studio – and that is not a good thing for a painter. I had a lot to catch up.

“Hello,” I said, hoping it wasn’t some sort of a sales call.

It was one of my neighbors. We had run into one another in the street the day before, and I had mentioned that my new website was online.

“Kristen,“ she said, “I’m sitting here with a friend of mine looking at your new web page. She really likes the painting of the bee and would like to know what it costs.”

My breath caught. I didn’t have my pricelist finished yet! I had no idea!

I quickly did the math in my head (usually a risky endeavor for me), told her the price, and hoped it was correct.

I heard her say the price to someone else in the background. Then she came back on line.

“Okay,“ I heard my neighbor saying. I couldn’t quite believe what I was hearing, “that’s fine. She’ll take it. Can I give her your number?“

I actually stammered; I was so surprised. This had never happened to me before. “Uh, of course. Please do.“

„Okay. She’ll be in touch.”

We hung up. I was floored. I felt happiness bubbling around the rim of my emotions, but I was afraid to get too excited. No one ever buys a painting so spontaneously. This never happens.

On the other hand, that someone wanted to buy this particular painting did not really surprise me. Everywhere I had ever shown it, it had always gotten a very positive response. I knew that it was one of my best works. In spite of this, I was so excited, I had to take a quick break to calm down.

Fifteen minutes later I was off somewhere in the house doing some senseless chore when the inevitable happened:

She called again, and - believe it or not - I didn’t hear the phone!

The moment I saw the missed call, I rang her back.

“Hi, Kristen, my friend wanted to know if we could come by and have a look at the painting?”

I was floored again. This couldn’t be happening!

“Of course you can,” I said, thinking we would make an appointment. “When would she like to come by?” I was already pulling my calendar from the shelf.

“We could be there in fifteen minutes. Would that be okay?” was her answer.

I was stammering again, “Uh, sure, that’s fine. Come on by.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

We hung up again and I sprang into action.

I literally ran down the stairs to my studio (which is in the basement of my home) and tried, in vain, to tidy up a bit. I quickly realized this was a hopeless endeavor and instead grabbed the painting in question and brought it with me to the living room (I wasn’t so sure I wanted anyone to see my studio in that condition.)

Then I swept my entryway, because it was very dirty, and I knew I didn’t want anyone to see it in that condition.

(Yes, I really swept my entryway, and I still consider myself a feminist.)

When the three of them arrived, (yes, there were three of them: my neighbor, her mother and the friend who was interested in the painting) my neighbor introduced us all, and I led them to my living room.

They were thrilled with the painting, and the friend said she would definitely take it.

Great, except…the next problem:

The painting hadn’t been varnished yet. I would need to do that before she could have it.

I could see the disappointment in my customers face.

I reassured her: I would take care of it immediately, and the varnish only takes two days to dry. She could pick it up on Sunday – or, I could deliver it to her!

Her eyes lit up. I could tell she liked the idea, and I was relieved.

So, it was all arranged, and my “Bee” was sold.

The customer, by the way, has since purchased several paintings from me and become my best collector.