The $2,400 Heron That Never Saw a Gallery Wall

(A true story from the warehouse)

I painted this great blue heron last year. “Still Waters” – 48 × 24 inches, oil on canvas, all misty greens and quiet light. I love this piece. It’s one of those paintings where everything just worked: the mood, the color harmony, the way the bird stands half-dissolved into the fog like it’s deciding whether or not to exist today.

When it came time to send work to my gallery, I crated it up with a handful of other new pieces and shipped everything off.

And then… it never made it out of the warehouse.

There simply wasn’t wall space. The gallery was packed with a big group show, every inch spoken for. My heron, along with a couple of others, got politely wheeled to the back, still in bubble wrap, still in its crate, and parked among the flats and racks.

End of story, right?

Wrong.

One of the gallery’s salespeople—bless them forever—had a different idea. Instead of letting the paintings gather dust, they started bringing serious collectors back into the storage area on private appointments. Just flipping on the fluorescent lights, pulling a few crates out, and saying, “Wait till you see what just came in…”

A couple from out of state flew in to look at something else entirely. The salesperson walked them past the racks, uncrated the heron, propped it up on an empty easel under a single clip-light, and ten minutes later the painting was sold. $2,400, paid that day.

It never hung on a gallery wall. It never saw the nice track lighting or the opening-night wine crowd. It sold literally in the warehouse, under humming fluorescents, surrounded by cardboard and other people’s unsold dreams.

I laughed out loud when the gallery called to tell me. In an age of Instagram hype and art-fair frenzy, my quiet little heron found its person in the least glamorous spot imaginable—among the spare stretchers and the rolling racks.

There’s something perfect about it. The painting is all about stillness and patience, and it waited patiently in storage until exactly the right eyes found it.

So wherever you are, new owner of the heron—thank you. I hope it brings as much calm to your home as it did to mine while I was painting it. And thank you to the brilliant salesperson who refused to let good work stay hidden in the back.

Sometimes the best sales don’t happen under spotlights. Sometimes they happen in the warehouse, where the real magic hides.