| Framed and ready for labels |
Most people see a framed painting on a gallery wall as a finished vision, rarely realizing the symphony of logistics and late-night decisions that that happen long before the first guest walks through the door.
The Curation Phase
As a working artist, my studio is rarely empty. When I was asked to provide 12–15 works for an upcoming show, my first thought was, "I have a plethora of paintings!" My second thought? "But are they show-ready?"
While I am an artist at heart, I am also an analyst and a planner. Since the exhibition runs from March through May, I wanted the collection to breathe with the season. I conducted a visual inventory, selecting seven existing plein air and floral pieces that captured that vibrant, awakening energy. But to truly tell the story I wanted, I knew I needed to create something fresh.
The Frame & The Flow
Curation isn't just about the canvas; it’s about the presentation. I decided on a unified "Spring" aesthetic using gold frames to bring a bright, sophisticated warmth to the collection.
| Full table of works to be signed. |
The Final Push
There is a specific kind of magic in painting for a deadline. I spent weeks submerged in color—setting up fresh still-life floral arrangements in the studio and sifting through reference photos for the perfect, fleeting sunset.
By the end of the month, I had six new works. But a painting isn’t finished just because the brush is down. There is a "tedious" beauty to the final steps:
- The Signature: The final mark of ownership.
- The Varnish: Protecting the pigment and bringing out the depth.
- The Hardware: D-Rings, Wiring, Screws. My husband graciously spent two afternoons framing and wiring—a task that is as much about engineering as it is about art.
The Invisible Details
Then comes the paperwork. Titles often come to me in flashes—a line from a book, a lyric, or a specific pigment name—but the logistics of pricing, back-labeling, and coordinating with the exhibitor require a different kind of focus.
The Grand Reveal
Yesterday, I finally dropped off thirteen paintings at the venue. It takes hours to create a single piece, and dozens more to prepare it for the public eye. The life of an artist is beautiful and rewarding, but it is built on a foundation of bubble wrap, spreadsheets, and logistics.
I can’t wait to step back into the exhibition venue this week—not as the laborer, but as the viewer—to see the show finally breathe on its own.