Today my mom forwarded my aunt's email regarding her visit with my cousins:
Hi,
We had a great weekend with Dave, Gina and girls.
But....this is so weird! On our way there Saturday, we drove the scenic route that follows the shoreline up the island coast. We stopped at an Open House in Union Bay....just to be lookie-loos....nicely finished log cabin, right on the beach (quite beautiful, one bedroom with loft, and full suite in the basement, way too much $$). Anyway, the agent showed us through. I went into the master bedroom, had a peak at the ensuite, and when I turned around, on the wall was one of Elaine's original paintings, "The Model". Wow, imagine that! The agent said the owner had bought it some time ago at an Original Art Show.The "original art show" was a group show at Spirals cabaret in North Vancouver back in May of 1993. The buyer was the CEO of C.M. Oliver & Co. Ltd. (huge stockbroker company) who bought three paintings that day (I remember this sale well because I dropped the pieces off at his posh downtown office, and the first thing I saw when the elevator doors opened was two enormous floor-to-ceiling Shadbolts). But my aunt's story is but the second bizarre incident involving the three paintings. One of them,
Contemplation, was noticed on a living room wall by Michael while having Christmas dinner in his girlfriend's uncle's house back in 1996 - at least two whole years before we'd even met. Being a painter himself he remembered it, and boy did he ever have a
déjà vu moment when he saw my portfolio for the first time when we began dating in 2002...
As an even weirder side note, but not involving art: in 1990 (WAY before Michael and I met), after his car broke down only a few hours drive from Vancouver while on his road trip from Duncan (Vancouver Island) to York University in Toronto, he had no choice but to stay with the only Vancouver friends he had at the time. He resigned himself to attending a local university (SFU) instead and traded the car for a month's rent in the basement of this house, which turned out to be the exact same house my father grew up in - and the basement was the room my father and his older brother shared.
Is there no such thing as destiny? I ask you to reconsider...
O_o
Anyhow, back on topic more or less. I've sold more work in cafés, bars and gourmet chocolatiers' shops than I ever have through gallery shows. Maybe it's just the style of work that I do that lends itself better to cabarets and the like, but regardless it's a statistic worth noting.