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.