About a year ago i was fretting. i was all wound up about the two paintings that i leant to Jorge that i was uncertain if i’d ever get back. i practiced letting go eachandevery day.

and one found its way home at Easter…and the other in June. and i needn’t have sweated it afterall. i wrote all about it  In the Shuffle of the Collection

and now i am parting with the paintings again. tomorrow.

one goes to Shank. the other to the raffle winner.

and this time i have a bit more control over the letting-go.

Jorge was one of my most loyal supporters, and one of my fiercest critics. When he suggested i try to sell my paintings, i was surprised. and it made an impact.

It doesn’t matter if there is little turnout. it doesn’t matter if no one buys a thing.

it seems like it is mattering that i patched enough courage together to give it a whirl.

it seems like it is mattering that of all the barrels and heaps of unsolicited advice Jorge offered to me, that i chose to hang on to one piece – and to heed it.