To the Person Who Stole My Art: You Have Great Taste, But…
As I sit here to write a post about this past week, I’m still bumming pretty damn hard. Someone cut the lock on my U-Haul truck parked in Denver ahead of my art show and stole 10+ original paintings. I’m crushed to not be able to say goodbye to these pieces and not know the stories of the individuals who will be living with them on a daily basis. My heart hurts to have these artworks be gone. This body of work represented weeks and months of work in my studio. I poured my heart and soul into each piece.
Many afternoons over cups of tea were spent coaxing the muse held within each piece to come alive with my color-filled paintbrush. I fell in love with each of them. I’d finish a section and become enamored with the small things in the piece: the shadow of a tree, the glow of a ridgeline, or the shape of a structure. When you create as an artist, you dance with creativity for a period of time and it’s a stunning process to be a party to. I truly believe the original paintings keep this energy with them. When you buy (not steal) an original of mine, you’re taking this period of time that I played alongside the muse. You're getting the layers of paint that are built carefully over time to create the final piece you love. It’s a real time capsule of my life, my love for artistic expression, and my heartfelt appreciation of our stunning natural world.
It’s a shame that individuals and families will not be able to proudly collect these originals. The thief robbed them of this joy. While this angers me, I do find a silver lining too. The thief has become my best collector albeit through illegally stealing my works. I guess it’s a perverse compliment of the power of my work to capture someone’s attention and desire.
The funny thing about this tragedy is it showed me how beautiful people can be too. I’m grateful for the individuals that offered to search online marketplaces, spread the word, and helped me recover for the upcoming art shows. You are pure gold. A couple of shout outs are due:
First, thank you to all of the individuals that shared this within their communities to make the public aware of the theft and the pieces that were impacted.
Second, thank you to the Artisan Press Works team in Denver for printing three reproductions overnight so that my art booth wasn’t naked the next day.
Third, thank you to the Pedestal team for allowing me to create additional works and still participate in the Collective at BASECAMP upcoming winter gallery show with my remaining pieces. They met the news of the heist with grace, empathy, and kindness. I wish I could say the same thing about the other gallery.
Now, I turn my heart back to creating another body of work. Wish me luck as I step back into the studio.
If you were in love with these fine originals, check out their limited edition Giclee canvas print friends here. Seriously close runner up to the originals ;)
Please let me know if you encounter these originals in the real world or online world:
Here is my message to the thief:
“Dear Thief,
First of all, congratulations on your outstanding taste in art! Second, I must formally recognize you as my top art collector of the year. Given your sudden (and entirely illegal) acquisition of my latest collection, I felt a personal letter was in order.
Honestly, as a huge fan of heist movies and crime novels, I have to admit there’s a bizarre thrill to living one out in my very first year as a full-time artist. I guess this means I’ve officially made it? Nothing says “arrived” like an overnight art heist. Am I right?
It really is a tragic comedy. If you had just asked, I would have gladly handed over canvas reproductions of any piece that caught your eye in my U-Haul. They’re printed on premium cans with such crisp texture and rich color that they look almost identical to the originals, minus the weight of looted works.
Instead, you staged an entire operation, cut a lock on a casual weeknight, and cleared out my U-Haul. Part of me actually feels bad for you. That is an absolute ton of risk to take on a Thursday just to get some stunning art on your walls. I’m flattered, truly, but that was a big-ass risk for a home decor upgrade.
I know thinking about my feelings wasn’t high on your list while you were cutting the lock, but as a full-time artist in my first year, your timing was impeccable. Stealing a full body of work right before a major art show and two gallery debuts? Stunningly dramatic timing. Unfortunately for you, life isn’t Ocean’s Eleven, and I’m a big believer in karma (your’s is pretty negative at the moment).
When you eventually try to flip these pieces, I hope you enjoy dodging art enthusiasts and stolen-art registries tracking them. And if you decide to keep them on your living room wall, just know that every time your guests admire the brushwork or color, you’ll have to awkwardly change the subject so they don’t catch on to your grand heist.
If you happen to have a sudden, overwhelming change of heart, my inbox is open. I’ll still honor the trade: original pieces back to me, prints to you. We’d both benefit from no hard feelings, just a weird story for parties and ice breaker moments at work functions.
You definitely messed up, but you can still pull off a turn of fate and return them. The floor is yours.”
