On Becoming An Unsuspecting Art Collector
I have never asked the painter though, if he experiences the curious emptiness that I sometimes feel in the aftermath of a sale. I have traded something beautiful for a number. For money. And now that the cycle of commerce is complete, what next?
There was no thunder, no glowing doorway, no mysterious wind blowing through the apartment, and no choir of angels politely alerting me that physics had submitted its resignation.
The deck simply felt heavier.