A couple weeks ago, I received a friend request on Facebook by someone I did not recognize. I generally try not to answer those, but I accepted right away. I was annoyed at myself for doing so, and I decided to keep an eye on his posts for any chicanery.
Yesterday, I had this sudden urge to check my Other section within my Facebook messages (which I almost never do), and I had this message:
Yesterday, I had this sudden urge to check my Other section within my Facebook messages (which I almost never do), and I had this message:
Hi! So I'm pretty sure I bought
gigantic painting of yours. It's about 6 ft tall, and it appears to be
of a man that looks not unlike Norman Mailer, sitting in a flannel
shirt, with a cup of coffee. He looks to be sitting in front of a
computer, and the word "The" is below the computer, as in "...New York
Times"...did you paint this portrait? If so, I love it! Who is that
guy? Is it Mailer?
If you didn't paint it, I still love it.
Thanks!
Bobby
I was FLOORED. All caps.
Back in 1994, I had lent a painting to a local Chicago restaurant. I moved to New York in 1995, and I just didn't take care of my loose ends. I failed to inquire about it, the restaurant closed down, and I never saw that painting again. I have always kicked myself for letting that happen, as the painting had represented a shift in my student work, and the actual painting of it was a very meaningful memory for me as well.
And then this message one day on Facebook. How amazing.
Now I know that it wasn't trashed, that my immature inability to call that restaurant before I left in 1995 didn't result in complete regret, and that there is a person out there that would not only pick up that painting, but he would search for me, just to let me know that he had it and liked it.
It was quite a day for me yesterday. Meaningful in so, so many ways. Thanks again, Bobby, for seeking me out. I suspect your life will be full of creating little miracles for people.
If you didn't paint it, I still love it.
Thanks!
Bobby
I was FLOORED. All caps.
Back in 1994, I had lent a painting to a local Chicago restaurant. I moved to New York in 1995, and I just didn't take care of my loose ends. I failed to inquire about it, the restaurant closed down, and I never saw that painting again. I have always kicked myself for letting that happen, as the painting had represented a shift in my student work, and the actual painting of it was a very meaningful memory for me as well.
And then this message one day on Facebook. How amazing.
Now I know that it wasn't trashed, that my immature inability to call that restaurant before I left in 1995 didn't result in complete regret, and that there is a person out there that would not only pick up that painting, but he would search for me, just to let me know that he had it and liked it.
It was quite a day for me yesterday. Meaningful in so, so many ways. Thanks again, Bobby, for seeking me out. I suspect your life will be full of creating little miracles for people.