This series chronicles my (and I hope soon others') journey to becoming an art collector, with the goal of demystifying the whole concept of collecting. As you will see, I do not have an art history background, and I do not have Picassos covering my walls. There are just pieces of art that I love, and I buy them. That is collecting. See? Not so scary.

Ferruzzi print purchased in Italy from the artist's studio, and it still hangs in our house, even though it is pretty different from most of our other art.

Ferruzzi print purchased in Italy from the artist's studio, and it still hangs in our house, even though it is pretty different from most of our other art.

In my last post, I talked about growing up in an art-filled home. Most of the pieces were by local artists, and my parents have a very different aesthetic than I do. But when my husband and I got married, we began going to local art festivals and finding original pieces by local artists for our own home. When we were in Italy on our honeymoon, we popped into a bunch of small galleries and bought a few pieces, noticing that the prices were very reasonable and often they were more artist studios than traditional galleries, so meeting the artist and buying directly was part of the whole experience.

In the interest of being transparent and giving you some insight into how buying art is an evolution of learning and experimentation, I will share with you my most embarrassing art buying experience. Gulp. 

So sometime during this phase of first purchases and art festivals, we bought a gallery wrap canvas of some famous painting from a kiosk in the middle of the mall. Yep. That happened. And we didn't even realize it was a famous painting, we just thought the scene was nice. A year or so later I figured it out, gave it away, and try to forget that even happened. The point is, we learn and grow and change our tastes. It's all part of the fun.

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