Summary

An artist recounts a series of serendipitous events and interactions in their small studio, which include a theft, a fortunate sale, and encounters with individuals connected to a book they discovered.

Abstract

The artist, while preparing for an exhibition, experienced a theft of their artwork but was soon compensated by an unexpected sale to a Swedish customer. The day continued with a chain of coincidences involving a book by Jaques Prevert found in a street library, leading to conversations with a local filmmaker and a Scandinavian adventurer, both of whom had connections to the author and the poet Prevert. The artist reflects on their role as a confidant and storyteller in the community, drawing parallels between their studio and a confessional, and ponders their own future adventures.

Opinions

The artist expresses a mix of frustration and humor regarding the theft of their artwork, wishing an exaggerated misfortune upon the thief.
They reveal a cynical yet resigned acceptance of the theft as part of their financial cycle, which seems to balance out with unexpected sales.
The artist values the serendipitous nature of life, seeing it as either serendipity or a circular economy at play.
They show a sense of wonder and delight in discovering new works, such as Prevert's poems, and in the coincidental connections that follow.
The artist seems inspired by the adventurer's life and ambitions, possibly yearning for their own adventures beyond the studio.
There is a hint of voyeuristic intrigue in the artist's role as a keeper of stories, particularly intimate ones shared by transient visitors.
The artist implies a sense of being educated through the myriad of human experiences they encounter, suggesting personal growth through these interactions.

Serendipity

Stories from a Small Studio

Yesterday, focusing on finishing a gold leaf icon for an up-coming exhibition, I half took in the feet of someone standing and looking at the display of small, original drawings that I sell occasionally to help with the rent of the space. These are displayed in a postcard rack that hangs on one of the open doors to the studio and are partly hidden by the easel that blocks the entrance.

The feet moved off and I thought no more about it until, going to shut up for the day, I saw gaps in the rack — half the works had gone.

Yes — feet woman had calmly picked the best stuff, pocketed it and walked off!

I hope her mother dies in a freak yachting accident.

There, Processed that one!

This morning, (me still smarting from the slight), a lovely man from Sweden appeared and purchased a squiggle of wire from me for the same amount that I had lost from the theft of the cards!

This often happens. I, who rarely spend money, am often reimbursed with an equivalent sale when I do. (Is this serendipity, or a circular economy?).

After lunch, I found a book by Jaques Prevert (“Spectacle”) in a street library.

I knew the name, but not the work and was delighted to discover the poet’s word play poems and scripted philosophies.

Devouring it, squirreled away in the studio, I was interrupted by a local Canadian film maker, whom I know, vaguely.

Seeing the book, he told me that he had just had lunch with someone who had known Prevert and that, indeed, he (the film maker)had been staring at his framed autograph for most of the meal.

That someone is the mother of Jean Paul — the best baker in town for three generations. Apparently, Prevert had been a regular visitor back in the day, often seen perched on the wall outside the bakery, chatting to locals. The framed signature was the one scribbled on a bread bag for Jean Paul’s mum after she had plucked up the courage to ask the writer for an autograph.

As the Canadian left, a Scandinavian man appeared…

An hour of conversation later, I discover that he knows the author of the book that I picked up randomly and started reading last night!

(“Walking. One Step at a Time” by Erling Kagge)

They are both adventurers and both live in Oslo.

My man is here to write a book about his 5000k kayak through the Baltic States, also to plan his next challenge — a year long kayak from almost the North Pole to the Gulf of Mexico, via Canada and the Great Lakes — paddling 40k per day and sleeping in a tent.

On the way, he talks in schools about cultivating curiosity and self-confidence.

Soft spoken, fit and handsome, the man is CEO of a large company — and did I mention that he has another book with a New York publishing company? And that when he is back in Antibes, he is taking me to lunch?

I know!

Art is the medium — but my studio has a whiff of the confessional about it. Like a barmaid, I stand behind my barricade of oil paint, sometimes serving up stories of my own and receiving glimpses into a variety of other lives in exchange.

People come and go — stories ebb and flow — and, often, they let it all go to a stranger that they think they know. A fixture in a place transient — that’s my role for now.

Maybe, one day, I will have absorbed enough stories, to master the ability to step out — out of my box and into my own adventure. Then, I can tell my own stories to inspire…

(I think it’s called an education)

Meanwhile, I have an icon to gild whilst guarding the suitcase of the beautiful girl who asked me to, please… Because she needs one last swim before boarding the flight back to New York — where she lives as a high-class hooker to the rich and famous — or rather, their wives…

I know!!