Why Do I Still Find It Strange When Someone Buys My Art?
A few days ago, a collector in Denmark purchased two of my limited edition prints.
We've never met and chances are we never will. They've never seen my work in person. Everything they knew about me and my artwork came through a handful of images on a screen, yet something in those images was enough to make them stop scrolling, spend time looking and ultimately make the decision to bring two of my prints into their life.
As with all sales, I never take for granted that somebody chose my artwork... and that feeling has never gone away.
I've sold artwork before and I hope to sell many more pieces in the future, but the idea that an image which once existed only in my imagination can end up resonating with somebody I've never met still fascinates me.
Why Do We Create and Collect Art?
Art occupies a unique place in our lives. We don't need it in the same way we need food, shelter or transport, yet every civilisation throughout history has created it and collected it. We fill our homes with paintings, photographs, books, music and objects that mean something to us. We preserve them, carry them through different stages of our lives and even pass them on to future generations.
Their value doesn't come from what they do in a practical sense. It comes from how they make us feel, even if we don't fully understand why.
I've bought artwork myself over the years and if somebody asked why I chose a particular piece, I could certainly give them an answer. I could talk about the colours, the composition, the subject matter or the artist. All of those things could be true, but they'll never fully explain why that particular piece stayed with me.
It's the same when I'm painting one of my abstract portraits. I can explain what a painting is about, but what I can't fully explain is why I feel compelled to create it in the first place.
Let's be honest, nobody becomes an artist because it's the most efficient route to money, stability or predictability.
There is simply something inside me that keeps pulling me back into the studio. Something that needs to get out. I can talk about creativity, communication and self-expression, and all of those things are true, but none of them fully capture it. The simplest explanation is that I paint because I need to. Not in a dramatic sense, simply in the sense that creating feels like a natural part of who I am.
In that sense, artists and collectors may not be so different.
When a Painting Takes on a Life of Its Own
At one end is somebody who feels compelled to create something. At the other is somebody who feels compelled to bring that thing into their life. Neither side can fully explain their decision, yet somehow those two impulses meet.
I mentioned this feeling to an artist friend whose work has found homes all over the world.
His reply immediately resonated with me:
"Out of all the amazing work out there you chose to spend your hard earned cash on my work?!"
His response wasn't rooted in insecurity. It was rooted in appreciation. Even after selling artwork around the world, he still hadn't lost that sense of gratitude that somebody had chosen his art.
He shared a story about a piece that had become part of a family's life. Their autistic daughter had formed a strong connection to it and the family had even named the piece 'Shirley'.
That wasn't something the artist could ever have planned for, just as the family couldn't have known the role the piece would eventually play in their lives.
The story often continues without the artist ever knowing... a painting leaves the studio, but its journey is only just beginning.
As artists, we bring our own experiences, influences and intentions to what we create. The person looking at it brings their own experiences too. A painting may begin with one meaning and acquire another. Sometimes those meanings overlap. Sometimes they don't.
The Story Doesn't End With the Sale
Over the past few months, I've spent a lot of time looking at website statistics, Google rankings, impressions and clicks. Those numbers matter because they help me understand whether people are finding my artwork, but they can also make it easy to forget that every click represents a real person.
One of those people recently purchased two of my prints.
Prints which only existed because I felt compelled to create them resonated with somebody I've never met and are now making their way to Denmark.
From this point onwards, any meaning they take on will belong to somebody else and I love that.
For now, I'm just glad they found my work.
Out of everything they could have chosen, they chose my art.
And after all these years, that's something I still don't take for granted.
About Paul Kneen
I’m a UK contemporary abstract portrait artist exploring inner noise, quiet pressure and the emotional complexity of modern life through fragmented portraiture and bold colour. I create original paintings and limited edition prints, while also writing about art, exhibitions and the realities of being an artist today.
