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Myself Ramesh. I paint Mithila, as my mother and her mother taught me. Natural colours only, turmeric yellow, indigo blue, vermilion, so on. A gallery in Delhi some years back said they liked my work very much but could I please use "more contemporary palette" they said. I was confused ji. These colours are the tradition. They carry meaning. I cannot change simply because somebody wants something else. I said no. And they moved on. Now I wonder, has any gallery asked you to change something fundamental about your work? The colours, the subject, the size, the medium. And did you do it, or did you hold your ground? I am curious to know. 🙏

ok who's actually had a cold email to a gallery WORK. not a "they replied a month later saying send more" that goes nowhere. like, a real show, a sale, a relationship. i've sent maybe 40 cold emails in my life. got 3 replies. 1 meeting. zero shows. feel like i'm doing it wrong or it's just a numbers game that i lose at. tell me i'm wrong or tell me your one fluke that worked

You know, in our tradition, when we paint the wedding scene, the bride and groom, the mandap, the procession, we always include the musicians. Dholak, shehnai, sometimes a harmonium. It is part of the story. It is how you know there is celebration happening. Last week I was working on a piece for a young couple from Darbhanga. Big order, they wanted the full wedding narrative around the border. So I am painting, I am painting, all the figures are coming nicely, the bride under her veil, the groom with his sehra, the women carrying diyas. Then I finish and I look and I realise: nobody is playing the dholak. There is a gap in the procession where the drummer should be. I forgot him completely. My wife looked at it and said "Where is the music, Ramesh ji?" I had to take a fresh paper and start that section again. Thirty years of this work and still I am leaving out the drummer. This is what I am thinking today: that the old stories, they have their own order. If the dholak player is missing, the wedding is not complete. You cannot skip him just because you are in a hurry or you forget. The painting will know.🙂

commission story, and then im quietly retiring from commissions forever. client wanted a custom portrait. haggled me down from 200 to 80 "because it's just one person, not a full scene." fine. my fault for saying yes. then ghosted for two weeks. then came back asking for four rounds of revisions, including, and i quote, "can you make her look happier but also more mysterious." i have earned roughly eight pounds an hour to be told my work isnt mysterious enough. im done. originals only from here on

So I finally worked up the nerve to paint my grandmother's childhood home, the one she grew up in, in a little town near Mangalore. She's told me about it so many times. The jackfruit tree in the back, the veranda where her mother used to grind spices, the red oxide floors. I've never seen it myself, it got sold decades ago, but I pieced it together from her stories and old photos my aunt had. Finished it last week and showed her yesterday. And she just looked at it for a long time and said "which house is this?" I explained, and she went quiet. Then she said "no, that's not how it was at all" and started describing it again, the windows were different, the roof was lower, the jackfruit tree was on the other side actually. I sat there with my painting that was completely wrong and felt like such an idiot. But then later she called me and said to come over this weekend, she wants to sit with me and draw it properly together. She said "I'll tell you where every brick goes, you put it down." I don't know if the painting will be better the second time, but I think this is actually a win. Just not the kind you frame right away.

I sold a piece last year through a gallery in Berlin. Big installation, months of work, shipping a truckload of steel and glass across two borders. The collector paid 18,000 euros. By the time the gallery took their 50 percent, the trucking company charged me for the special crating I couldn't do myself, the assistant I hired for the install, and the hotel I stayed in because the loading dock appointment was at 7am and I don't know anyone in Berlin who'd let me sleep on their floor at 56, I looked at the bank transfer and it was 3,400 euros. The framer who built the crate made more than I did. I know because I asked him what he charged. He told me. Nice guy. He earned it. I'm not telling this as a sob story. I agreed to the terms. I just keep thinking about how the whole system is built so that the people who touch the work for ten minutes make more than the person who spent four months making it exist. And we all nod and say that's how it works. But it's funny, no. You spend your whole career getting to a number like 18,000 and then you do the math and realise you'd have been better off framing other people's pictures.

There's a Saturday market in Galway I've been doing on and off for maybe twelve years. Rain, hail, the odd glorious day where everyone's in great form. And I used to think the point of it was to shift prints, which it is, but the real thing it taught me is how to talk to people about what you make without sounding like you're selling. You get all sorts at a stall. The tourist who wants something that says Ireland without being a leprechaun on a toilet. The local who stops because they recognise the pier or the mountain. The person who clearly loves the work but hasn't got thirty quid and stands there turning a card over in their hands. And you learn, quick, that the ones who buy aren't the ones you try to convince. They're the ones you just talk to, normally, about the carving or the ink or the hare that lives in the field behind your house and won't let you get near it. The thing that stuck with me is this: I've never sold a print by telling someone how good it is. I've sold plenty by telling them the story of the night I carved it and nearly took the tip of my finger off, or how the block got dropped in a puddle and the crack became part of the print. People want the thing behind the thing. They don't want a pitch. Anyway. The market's grand for that. But online, I still catch myself trying to sound like a proper business instead of just a fella in a jumper with ink under his nails. And the minute I do that, engagement drops off a cliff. The posts that work are always the ones where I forget I'm supposed to be marketing and just talk about what happened today. Sure I don't know where I'm going with this except that the best marketing advice I ever got was from a woman buying a print of a heron who said "just tell me why you made it" and walked away with two.

okay so I keep thinking about this and I wanna know if I'm the only one this has happened to. I had a gallery owner literally shake my hand at a studio visit, say "these are perfect, let's get you on the books," and then... nothing. never heard from them again. I followed up twice, polite but not pushy, and just got radio silence. did this happen to anyone else?? like is this just part of the game or did I do something wrong? I'm still pretty new to this whole gallery thing and I honestly don't know if I should've been more aggressive or if they just got busy and forgot or what. my take rn is that handshake means nothing until there's a signature but man it stung a little haha. tell me your ghosting stories so I don't feel like the only one 🥲

sure look we've all got a horror story or two about walking into a gallery with your portfolio and knowing inside five minutes it was a dead loss. give us the worst one. I'll go first. maybe eight years ago, still pretty green, got a meeting with this gallery in a city I won't name. small place, grand, but the fella running it spent the whole time looking at his phone while I was pulling prints out. didn't ask me one question about the work. then he told me he could "make me" if I was willing to "compromise a little" which turned out to mean make stuff that looked like the fella three doors down who was selling. I packed up my stuff, thanked him, and he actually said "are you sure" like I was the one wasting his time. still makes my blood warm thinking about it. what about ye? ever walk into a meeting and wish you'd stayed in bed?

I got so sick of the game I just stopped. No stories, no posts, nothing. Three weeks of radio silence while I painted in my studio like it was 2015 before I cared what anyone thought. And suddenly people are sliding into my DMs asking if I'm okay, if I'm still making work, can they buy that piece from two years ago?? One person found my website through a blog post I wrote in 2022 and commissioned a portrait. A PORTRAIT. Off a blog I forgot existed. I'm not saying "go silent and they'll come running" because that's another flavor of hustle brain nonsense. But damn. The amount of energy I've burned performing for an algorithm that doesn't care vs just... existing and letting people find me when they need to. I don't know what to do with that information honestly.

okay so I finally landed my first gallery showing last year and the whole process was honestly such a mess I'm still not sure I did it right. I cold-emailed like 12 galleries, heard back from TWO, one of which was a "thanks but no thanks" and the other took three months to respond and then acted like we'd been in conversation the whole time?? I was so nervous I basically wrote an essay about myself in every email and I cringe looking back but also... it worked?? eventually?? I want to hear your gallery origin stories honestly, how did you land your first one? Did you walk in somewhere, did you email, did someone see your work somewhere else? Tell me I'm not the only one who had no idea what they were doing and just faked it til something stuck.

okay who else has the "gallery that just sat on everything and never said a word" story i dropped off a series at a small space, she seemed genuinely into it, said she'd be in touch. eight months. i emailed twice, got vague replies. finally went in person and she'd forgotten my work was even there. just had it stacked in a back room collecting dust. no show, no interest, no nothing. took it home in a garbage bag. i know i should've had a contract. i know. what's your "i should have walked out the door" gallery moment

okay I need to know if this is just me or if this is universal, how did you land your first gallery showing? like the real first one, not the group show your friend curated. I've been sending portfolios out for months and the closest I've gotten is a gallery that was really warm via email for three months, asked for more photos, said they'd "circle back," and then just... stopped replying. I followed up twice and nothing. I don't even know if I should keep emailing them or take the hint. my own answer is honestly embarassing, my first "gallery" thing was a coffee shop that let me hang stuff near the bathroom. which was nice! but I'm trying to level up and I feel like I'm doing something wrong. tell me your first real gallery story, good or bad. did you email? walk in? know someone? I need to know what actually works vs what we're all just guessing at

My first gallery meeting took place in a room with a leaky radiator and a dealer who spent most of it on the phone. I sat there thinking this was the big moment. It wasn't. It took three more years and a different city. What's your story - the first gallery that actually took you seriously, not the one that made you tea and said nice things and never called back. The real one. How did you know they meant it?

I've been thinking about how my prints sell. It's not through aggressive social media campaigns or paid ads. It's mostly word-of-mouth, people seeing them in small galleries or cafes here in Porto, and then finding me online later. I sell maybe five pieces a month this way. The key is that the work itself has to resonate, to carry its own quiet story. I don't chase trends. I just make what feels true to the ocean, to the light. It’s a slow burn, not a sprint, and honestly, I’m fine with that. It feels more honest, somehow.

ok so i spent three days on this little sculptural vase, handbuilt, textured surface, this glaze combo i've been testing for weeks. really proud of it. posted a reel of the process, lighting nice, good music, the whole thing. got maybe 300 views. then yesterday i posted a story of my cat sitting in a bisqueware bowl i forgot to trim down. phone footage, bad lighting, my thumb in the corner for half of it. 4.2k views. 14 dms asking if the bowl is for sale. i don't know what the game is anymore. i'm not even mad, just... confused. like the algorithm has decided my cat is the artist now and i'm just the assistant who cleans the kiln.

Right so, I'm thinking back to the early days, before I knew hide nor hair about anything really. I had this batch of prints, right, proper proud of them too, and I decided this one gallery in the city was the only place they'd ever live. So I marched in, all a-flutter with nerves and hope, and I'd got this portfolio under my arm, thinking I was the next big thing. The gallerist, a fella with a stare that could curdle milk, took one look at my stuff, barely flicked a page, and then just said, 'We don't do this here.' Didn't say what this was, didn't offer a shred of advice, just shut me down cold. Took me a good few weeks to even pick up a carving tool again after that. What's your worst gallery rejection story, the one that still makes you wince?

ok what's the worst gallery ghosting story you've got. not the rejection, i mean the ones that actually showed your work and then just... evaporated. i had one where the owner went completely dark after the closing. wouldn't answer emails, wouldn't return paintings. i had to show up in person three months later and she acted like she'd never met me. got my work back but she still owes me like $800. at this point it's the principle. anyone else get fully erased post-show or was that just my lucky break

Someone asked me to paint their grandmother's house in Malleswaram, the one being sold, about to be knocked down for yet another apartment block. They wanted it as a gift for the whole family. I was so touched by the reason I just said ₹3,000 without thinking. Then I actually did it. Reference photo was terrible, old phone pic, bad lighting, half the house hidden behind a tree. I had to go there twice to sketch it properly, spent a full Sunday morning sitting on the kerb drawing, then another two days painting at home. The house had this lovely old chettah-style window detail and I ended up redoing the whole thing because the first wash went muddy. So that's roughly 20 hours of work for ₹3,000. ₹150 an hour. Less than what I pay my domestic help. The family loved it, cried actually, and that's worth something. But I sat there thinking, why do we do this to ourselves? Because the story was good? Because saying a real number felt awkward? I wouldn't ask my plumber to work for ₹150 an hour. Still haven't figured out what I should have charged. ₹8,000? ₹12,000? I honestly don't know what a fair rate is for this kind of thing in Bangalore. What do you all charge for a detailed architectural watercolour, a full house, not just a loose sketch?

I had a big print deadline, 40 editions for a group show in Milan, and I just stopped posting. No stories, no carousels, no polite little "in the studio" clips. Nothing for almost nine weeks. I was sure my engagement would be dead when I came back. Instead I gained followers. Not a lot, but more than I did in the three months before where I was posting twice a week. And the people who messaged me were actual humans I've met or worked with, not the usual ghost likes. I don't know what to make of this. Maybe the algorithm prefers scarcity. Or maybe when you're not performing, the only people who show up are the ones who actually care about the work. Which is a nicer thought but also harder to monetise, so I'm not sure it's useful. Anyone else had the experience of doing less and getting more?