From the moment I first put the phone down to Robert at Zambezi One I was on a sort of roller coaster.  Unlike those in the fairgrounds I did not know where this one was going or what route it was going to take; the highs were undefined and the lows were out of sight.

For those who have never exhibited this is the approximate way things went.

My wife had been nagging me for a while to get in touch with a gallery, since I had not done so  I was taken in hand.  The name of the gallery and the phone number were written on a piece of paper and presented to me.  A blank look crossed my face.  I reverted to my usual tactic; “I am not good at these things …”, “what am I supposed to say?”, “Of course I can ring them, but if they want to sell the paintings for a 100 euros I will end up getting angry and there will be no relationship …”   I confess to claiming inability when the truth may be closer to feelings of inadequacy.

If you are not going to force a man to make a phone call then the obvious solution is to make it yourself; exactly what my wife did.  I cannot remember exactly how she introduced herself on the phone, but it was something along the lines “I am the bullying wife who is trying to get his act in gear”.  We had house guests at the time the call was made, so there was nothing to be done for the following week.  Three days after the departure of our guest we were in the car heading to the gallery.  Three days later the walls were booked and a list was written for me to complete!

So what was it that I needed to do before I could show my work?  Firstly, I had to finish Yachts.  It was looking like the colours in it were going to work brilliantly, but you cannot take a part finished painting to a gallery – so that was the first thing.  Next we had to work out how to hang the paintings.  Since they are painted on wood they are heavier than your average hanging.  Also we live in a rather small house, so I had built a rack for the paintings on the floor – none had every been hung on a wall; welcome to challenge number two.

The third thing which was on the list was by far the scariest – pricing.  I rather model myself on Picasso, but unfortunately I cannot price by his scale!  I have always been very anti the idea of selling my work too cheap, this is partly because it takes such a long time to complete each one.  Unlike a painting it cannot be done in one day.  I first have to create the drawing, then adjust it to work on the layers of wood I use.  Next it needs to transferred onto the wood and cut.  Once cut each piece is painted individually and then glued into its final place on the painting.  Not something even super man could fit into one day.  Some people have suggested that perhaps I should reduce the process so I can produce work faster and sell it cheaper, but I find that rather offensive.  No one would ever suggest to a Michlin star chef that they should convert their restaurants into fast food joints!!!!! So why say it to me ….

We debated the prices until my wife could take it no longer.  She got a piece of paper and wrote them down and that was what was sent to the gallery.  As Robert, one of the gallery owners said to me on our last meeting “behind every successful man is a strong woman” I think I could change that to “every aspiring man needs a Mirrie” – except she is 100% busy sorting me out – so the rest of you will have to find your own.

The paintings made it to the gallery, and with the help of Robert and Andrew they were arranged fabulously.  The vernissage was a success – dispite the fact that it clashed with an England France rugby match, all was going ok.  Until ….. one of the paintings fell off the wall.  This was totally my fault.  I had used an inadequate fixing and I knew that the only person who should be fixing it was me.  This fact did not stop me from trying to palm the responsibility off onto the gallery, whose efforts are appreciated.  Once again I was loaded into the car with a spare painting to go and resolve the problem before I talked anymore about it, or had any more restless nights.  Of course, my wife was right, it is far better to fix something than to worry about it.

Now we are both sleeping with our fingers crossed in the hope that something sells and we will have a few extra pennies.

The car is gone …. good or bad?

 

The car was always slightly different to the other paintings I was working on.  Firstly it was the only one which was actually small enough to be moved by one person alone, secondly, it was experimental with the car coming out of the frame.

 

I am of course glad to have sold a painting, and the money has gone towards a couple of days at the beach for my family, but I also feel a little sad to split the collection.

 

There is a flatness and an un-nerving feeling that I cannot quite understand.  I think that however much I create in the hope of others enjoying I am not actually emotionally ready for them to be in someone elses home, for other people to wake up to them.