The other day I was out with my wife at Starbucks drinking a peppermint tea (I love peppermint). We sat talking about nerdy things like whether a cure for aging would change cultural norms surrounding suicide or affect people’s risk aversion in a statistically significant way.

“That’s funny,” she said.
“The art on the wall behind you, I thought it was cute, they got some middle schoolers to hang their art up.”

I looked, and I saw what was funny. It wasn’t middle school art, it was a local artist selling her work. Flat, watercolor portraits and semi-abstract, still life paintings hung frameless above the couches.

It was amusing for a moment, but then I remembered how much hate mail I get along with support for my writing here and for my other projects.

It's easy to talk smack about someone who puts their work up in public

It’s easy to talk smack about someone who puts their work up in public. That artist put together a body of work and got a local business to display it. It took dedication, talent, and perseverance to create her makeshift art gallery. Where was my gallery that would allow me to sit in judgment of her accomplishments?

I’ve said it before: the gallery that exists is better than the perfect gallery that doesn’t. Good for her for creating something and putting it into the world.

It’s not just about paintings or writing though. Everyone has a gallery of their own in their heart. Does your gallery exist?