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So a gallery I was talking to, small, not huge, but seemed legit, wanted me to ship them a bunch of pieces on consignment, cover the shipping myself, no guarantee anything would sell. I asked about the split and they sent me their "artist agreement." 70/30 their way. For a solo show. And I'd be paying for the opening night drinks out of my 30%. I laughed and said no obviously. But I'm still thinking about it, what IS normal these days? Like what's an actual fair split for a small gallery that's actually doing the work? I've heard 50/50, I've heard 60/40 artist-favoring, I've heard some places do 70/30 the artist's way if the artist is bringing the collectors. What are y'all actually seeing out there? What's walking-around real vs what's them trying it?

Last year a museum in Germany asked me to do a talk and a small intervention in their permanent collection. Three days of work plus prep. They had a budget. I told them not to worry about it. I don't even have a good reason. I respected the institution. I liked the curator. I wanted to seem generous. So I just said don't worry about it and ate the time. My son found out and gave me this look. Not angry. Just disappointed in a way that was worse. He said you always tell me to value my work and then you do this. I sat with that for a while. I'm still sitting with it. The thing is I know exactly why I did it. There's a part of me that still thinks if I'm not being paid it means I'm doing it for the right reasons. Which is a stupid romantic holdover from the 80s when nobody had any money anyway. Now I have a studio to run and materials to buy and a grown son who watches me undermine myself. I charged them eventually. Six months later. Sent an invoice with a note saying I reconsidered. They paid it without a word. But I still feel the embarrassment of that first conversation. Not the embarrassment of asking for money. The embarrassment of being too afraid to ask for it.

A small gallery I've been talking to finally offered me a solo show for next spring. I was buzzing about it for like a day. Then they said the budget for materials is $200. I don't think they're trying to screw me. They're tiny. But $200 barely covers the paper and panel for one large piece, let alone the paint, the medium, the charcoal, the adhesive, the found materials I buy from estate sales. I'd be eating the rest myself and I already have a day job I hate. I said yes because the opportunity is real and I've been wanting this. But I'm already doing the math in my head and it's not great. I have about 8 months. I'm trying to figure out if I can pull this off without it costing me more than whatever I might sell. Anyone else done a show where the "support" was basically symbolic? How did you handle the gap without looking ungrateful?

ok so i was talking to a gallery a few months back, small one, seemed nice, and then near the end they go "oh and we ask our artists to cover the opening drinks and food, about 200€, standard thing" and i just sat there like... is this standard??? i said i'd think about it and never wrote back. what's the wildest thing a gallery has tried to make you pay for? i need to know if i'm too suspicious or if that's actually crazy.

We talk a lot about the obvious red flags, the ones that wave themselves at you. But I've been thinking about the opposite: the gallery that looked right, felt right, you trusted them, and then somewhere along the way it quietly fell apart. I had one a few years ago. A small space near the river, the owner understood the work, she talked about light and patience and I thought, finally. The show went well. Then she started postponing the payout. Just a week, then another, then a month. Always a warm excuse, always a promise. I let it go because I liked her, because the first impression was so good. I ended up waiting almost five months. What about you, the gallery that seemed perfect and then showed you otherwise? What was the first crack?

I still think about my first gallery. Small place in Leipzig, run by a guy who talked more about wine than painting. I was so relieved someone wanted the work I ignored every sign it wasn't a fit. Lasted eighteen months, then folded. Mine was the wrong yes. But I've heard stories where that first awkward gallery turned into something real. Was your first gallery the right one or the one you learned from?

I still think about the first gallery I almost had. Small spot, owned by an older painter who actually knew how to hang work and talk to clients. I was young, blew the meeting by being nervous and trying too hard. Never got a second shot. Anyone else got one that slipped through their fingers? Or did you dodge a bullet and not know it at the time.

ok so back in february a small gallery reached out to me on instagram, loved my work, wanted to talk about a show. i was SO hyped, first real gallery interest since going full-time. we had a zoom, they said they'd send a proposal "next week." then nothing for a month. i followed up, they apologized, said they were restructuring. another month. then "we're still interested, hang tight." and i just... kept hanging?? for six months?? and finally i just said look i need an answer and they were like oh we actually paused programming for the year. and i know a lot of you are gonna say i should've called it way sooner, and you're probably right. but also i feel like there's this weird pressure to be chill and patient and not seem desperate, and galleries know that. so i'm asking, have you ever been strung along like this by a gallery? how long did you wait before you walked? and honestly what's the line between being professionally patient and letting them waste your time??

So I've been full-time for eight months now which means I've been doing all the "okay so I guess I have to market myself" stuff that nobody prepares you for in art school lol. And the thing that actually worked, the thing that got me my first real gallery relationship, was the most humiliating process ever. I spent a weekend sending 40 cold emails. Like, proper ones, with images and links and a real bio. And I got one reply. ONE. And honestly for like two days I was so embarrassed I almost didn't open it because I assumed it was a no too. But it was a yes. A small gallery in a city I'd never been to, but they liked my work and wanted to talk. That one yes turned into a group show, which turned into two commission requests from people who saw the show, which turned into enough money to pay rent for three months without panic-ordering takeout. Anyway I'm not saying cold emailing is the secret sauce, mostly it's just brutal lol. But I think sometimes we hear about the one reply and not the 39 silences. So here's my question I guess: what's the thing you tried that felt stupid or embarrassing or like it wasn't working, and then it kind of... did?

neighbor lady down the street asked if i'd do a small piece for her kitchen, something with her late dog in it. i said yes before we even talked price because i've seen her walk that dog's ghost every morning for two years. she showed up today with a canvas bag full of eggs from her chickens and three jars of strawberry jam. said money's tight but she wanted to pay me something real. i hung the little painting on her wall and she cried. not the loud kind. just stood there with her hand over her mouth. i've been paid in worse ways for better work. this one's gonna sit with me for a while.

when you're trying to get into a gallery for the first time, do you email them first or just show up with your work? i've done both and honestly the walk-in worked better for me but i think i just got lucky with the right person at the desk. email felt like throwing things into a hole. i walked into this one spot with a small mixed-media piece in a tote bag, basically sweating, and the owner came out and we talked for 20 minutes. didn't get in that time but she remembered me later. the emails i sent that same year i couldn't even tell you if anyone read. what's your move? have you ever had a cold walk-in actually go somewhere?

I've had the big interviews, the long emails, all the talk about vision and programming. But the moment that actually told me how a place works was tiny. A small gallery in Lisbon once asked me how I wanted my pieces hung, what height, what spacing. Just asked me, like I was the artist and it was my call. I knew then they were good people. Another one, bigger name, never asked anything. They just decided. And I knew, too. What's the smallest thing a gallery has done that told you everything you needed to know, for better or worse?

So I did a little market in this old garage space in El Cabanyal last weekend. Thought it'd be quiet, maybe sell a few small pieces, cover the table fee. I brought a box of seconds, things with cracks, glaze drips, a little jug that leaned so far it looked drunk. I almost didn't unpack them. Put them at the edge of the table for 10€ each, basically clay cost. They went first. People loved them more than the "good" pieces. One woman said the crack in a little cup looked like a lightning bolt and she wanted to drink her morning coffee from it. I had to stop myself from explaining it was a kiln failure. Meanwhile on Etsy I'm fighting the algorithm, paying for ads, packing things in bubble wrap like a warehouse robot. And I made more in four hours sitting in a chair drinking terrible coffee from a thermos, telling people yes that cup is supposed to look like that. I'm not saying markets are the answer for everyone. But I'm starting to think the friction of selling online is getting ridiculous for small makers. You spend more time managing the store than making the thing. At the market you just... show up. Talk to people. Hand them a wonky cup and they love it. Maybe the real hack is just lowering your standards and letting people see the ugly ones lol

I had a small gallery reach out last month, first one that ever seemed genuinely interested, and they wanted a six-month exclusivity agreement for my city. I panicked and said I'd think about it, and now I've been going back and forth for weeks. Part of me thinks, it's just one city, and it's a foot in the door. The other part thinks I'm too small to be locking myself into anything. I ended up not signing. Maybe I was too cautious, I don't know. Has anyone here actually done an exclusivity deal? Did it help you or hold you back? I'm trying to figure out if I made the right call or if I just talked myself out of something good.

What's the longest a gallery has dragged their feet paying you after a sale? I'm not talking about the standard "net 30" that turns into net 90. I'm talking about the one where you had to email six times, where they had excuses every time, where you started to feel crazy asking for money they already collected from a collector. My record is 5 months. Small gallery, loved the space, they sold three pieces in the first month. Then silence. Every time I followed up it was "accounting issues" or "the collector hasn't paid yet" (which I later found out was a lie). Finally got paid after I threatened to name them on a Facebook group. Felt disgusting the whole time. Tell me your worst. How long? Did you ever not get paid at all?

People talk about the bad galleries, the ones that took too much, paid late, ghosted. But I want to ask about the opposite. The rejection that actually made sense. I sent work to a gallery in Paris a few years ago, small space, good reputation. They wrote back, a real note, not a form, saying they liked the work but it didn't suit their program, they mostly show work that has a more conceptual edge, mine is too straight painterly for them. And you know what? They were right. I was annoyed for a week but they saved me from a bad fit. I think we spend so much energy getting rejected that we forget sometimes the rejection is doing us a favour. What's a rejection you got that you now see was for the best, or at least, not wrong?

Had a market stall at the weekend and the crowd-pleaser wasn't the big linen-backed heron print I was proud of. It was the small rough one of the drowned village, the one I carved off an old photo of my granda's aunt's house that's under the water now in Connemara. Three people bought it and every single one of them stood there while I told them the story. The fella who actually pulled cash out forked over for the smaller, rougher one once he heard the house had a name and a wake in it before the flood. So I've started putting a four-line story under every print on the site instead of "giclee print, acid free, signed." Not the poem, not the essay, just the bones of it. The hare one is now "she sat in the field behind the house the winter I stopped drinking and I thought we were the same animal." Early days but the page views are up and somebody actually messaged asking about the woman in the story. It's not a strategy, it's just me finally telling people why I carved the bloody thing instead of acting like the image should do all the work. Reckon the marketing crowd would call it storytelling. I call it being arsed to talk to people, which is the one thing I'm actually good at. Anyone else ever sold the story and not the picture? Or am I just talking to myself here.

I'm still annoyed about this years later. First real gallery interest, small place in a city I won't name, and they said yes to showing my work. Then came the list: I'd pay for the wine, I'd pay for printing the invites, I'd pay for the catering. They'd take 50% and "handle the space." I was so hungry for a show I almost said yes. My wife talked me out of it. What's the worst thing a gallery has asked you to pay for? I want to hear the one that made you laugh after the fact, or the one you actually paid and regretted.

There's a hotel in the old town here, small one, maybe fifteen rooms, family-run. The owner saw my work at a group show and asked if I'd do a large piece for their lobby, a view of the Saône at dusk, something calm. I said yes before I'd even thought about money. When we sat down to talk, he told me honestly he had almost no budget. The hotel barely survived COVID, they're still digging out. I said fine, I'll do it, just cover my materials. He looked relieved and ashamed at the same time. So I painted a 120x80 for the cost of oil and linen. About €280. The painting took me maybe sixty hours. I don't need to do the math again, I already did it and it's stupid. But here's the thing, it's in a place where people sit and look at it every morning over breakfast. The light in that lobby at certain hours is actually beautiful and the painting sits in it the way I hoped. I see it sometimes when I walk past. I don't regret it. I'm not saying this is a sustainable strategy. But a painting that lives well somewhere, even for nothing, I don't know. Sometimes that matters more than the hourly rate. And then sometimes I think I'm just telling myself that because I'm bad at business. Anyone else done a free or nearly-free piece that you still don't feel bad about?

I spent three weeks fighting a harbor scene and finally gave up on it one night, shoved it in the back of my closet. Pulled it out two months later mostly to see if the canvas was worth reusing, and you know what, it was actually fine. A few glazes later I really liked it. Ended up hanging it at a little craft fair in November. Not expecting anything from it, it was the piece I kept apologizing for when people stopped at my table. A woman came back twice to look at it and ended up asking if I could do something similar for her lake house. Smaller, different colors, but same idea. She just sent me the deposit. I keep thinking about how close that painting came to being gessoed over. Also the timing is funny because I'm exactly the kind of person who would've talked myself out of even putting it on the table. Glad I didn't.