So It Goes: sold at the fire sale

It was magnificent work and I too considered putting my hand up to purchase some.  But the bidders recognised talent when they saw it and the price went up.  I can’t be sure, but this calm, stoic, extremely talented woman probably raised more than $500 with her artistic prowess.

I am in awe.  I am not only in awe of this woman but there were other artists there too, one attracting bidding on the phone, from a buyer down south.

Meanwhile, my own works hung on the wall.  After the excitement of the bidding and the frenzy of the art grab, mine remained, unclaimed.  And then the caller announced that the remaining works were now for sale at the dramatically reduced price of $15.

This was my chance to race to the art wall and claim a painting I had been coveting.  But instead, I stayed on my chair transfixed, watching my own paintings like a mother watches her brood.  Almost as an aside, I watched a woman grab the painting I wish I had grabbed and for a moment, it brought me back to the present.

And it was then that my own personal excitement took hold.  Because was that one of my paintings being lifted down?  I let out a squeal of delight, wishing I could remain cool like the lady sitting opposite me.  But it was too exciting to hold in, because the painting hadn’t been returned.  The painting was heading towards the cashier and someone was doling out $15 for it.  It may have been a fire sale purchase, but purchase it was. At last I could claim to have painted my way towards the fund raising target.

At the end of the event, I parked my mother on a seat while I helped with the clean up.  It took a while.  When the rain eased, I headed over.  And there she was, asking for plastic bags to pop her purchases in. There she was the proud owner of three more of my works, works that truly could only be loved by a mother of the artist.  It was a sympathy purchase with a price tag of love.  She is still looking for a spot to hang them in between the actual nice art already on her walls.