“OKAAAAAAY,” the artist said as he took the painting from it’s display location on the wall at the art show. I handed him the roll of bills – the price he’d asked for the painting, and he said, “ … if you’ll JUST leave me alone.”
“THANK YOU SO MUCH … THANK YOU,” I gushed, clutching the painting to me as he threw both hands in the air and walked away. I was never so happy.
I’d seen his painting at an art show two years before displayed on the wall among others by various artists; some for display purposes only and some for sale. His painting had a NFS (Not for Sale) tag on it but I hunted him down and asked the price anyway. He said, “The tag says NFS so there IS no price.” I was shattered.
The painting was one of those rare creations that grabbed my attention immediately and touched me in one of those spots that seldom gets touched by wonder and emotion. I WANTED that painting.
I followed the artist around at art shows for two years, always asking the price and he always gave me the same answer.
Finally, on that day that he quoted me an astronomical price (apparently to shut me up) and I AGREED to it (which surprised both of us), he and I parted company; both of us apparently getting what we wanted … I, the painting and the artist, some unexpected money and finally, piece at art shows. I never saw him again.
But I DO see that painting every day. It hangs in our loft and a lot of times I stop and just look at it … thinking about where the place in the painting is, what it means, the hauntingly strange beauty of it. I had saved up for nearly two years to buy it at whatever price on the off chance that I would run into the artist again and he would finally cave and sell it to me.
I enjoy art, especially with cats as the subject matter and care more about the feelings the painting / picture evokes in me rather than the name of the artist or, if it’s a print, what number it is. I don’t buy art work to match colors in the room. I buy it because I love to look at it and try to imagine the ‘stories’ behind the subject of the painting and that just makes me happy.
My husband and I are ‘cat people’ but also appreciate dogs. I have a lot of cat art in our home but on a trip to our local mall several years ago I saw a large art print of Andrew Wyeth’s amazing painting, “Master bedroom,” (1965). I was captivated, whipped out my VISA and bought it. It was large and getting it through the mall to my car was a chore … but it was a labor of love.
This very special large art print hangs over our family room sofa. I LOVE it and have spent hours lying on the sofa looking at that picture … getting lost in it … imagining all sorts of things about the house, the direction of the sunlight coming through the window you don’t see, the bedroom, and especially that old dog. I have so much deep appreciation of this lovely, haunting picture … and, of course, the dog.
I follow David Attenborough Fans’s Post on Facebook and was surprised to see a post about this painting there today. Like the painting, the post touched me deeply and I wanted to share it.
“Just a dog” by Richard A. Animals:
From time-to-time people tell me “Chill out, it’s just a dog” or “it’s a lot of money just for a dog.” They don’t understand the distance traveled, the time invested, or the costs incurred by “just a dog”.
Some of my proudest moments have occurred with “just a dog.”
Many hours have passed being my only company “just a dog,” but not for one moment did I feel despised. Some of my saddest moments have been because of “just a dog,” and on those gray days, the gentle touch of “just a dog” gave me comfort and the reason to get through the day.
If you also think “it’s just a dog,” then you’ll probably understand phrases like “just a friend,” “just a sunrise” or “just a promise.”
“Just a dog” brings into my life the very essence of friendship, trust and pure unbridled joy. “Just a dog” brings out the compassion and patience that make me a better person.
For “just a dog” I will get up early, take long walks and look forward to the future.
So, for me and people like me, it’s not “just a dog,” but an embodiment of all the hopes and dreams of the future, the memories of the past, and the absolute joy of the moment. “Just a dog” brings out the good in me and takes my thoughts away from myself and daily worries.
I hope one day they can understand that it’s not “just a dog,” but the one that gives me humanity and keeps me from being “just a human.”
So, the next time you hear the phrase “just a dog,” just smile because they “just don’t get it”.
“Just A Dog,” by Richard A. Animals.
“Master bedroom,” (1965) Andrew Wyeth
Credit to the respective owner
As a ‘cat person,’ in conclusion, I feel that way about all the cats that have ever shared my life. They have NEVER been “just a cat …”
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heimdalco 