The bittersweet reality of letting go.

My Facebook Marketplace listings.

There’s something quite peculiar about selling a painting.

On one hand, there’s the absolute thrill of knowing that someone loves something I’ve created enough to want to live with it. Something that started as a blank canvas, a collection of colours, a few ideas and a bit of an experiment has connected with someone enough for them to take it home. Honestly, I get an enormous kick out of that. Every single sale feels like a little pinch-me moment.

But then comes the other side of it. The part where I have to actually let it go. A complete mix of emotions. Wonderful! Thrilling! Slightly heartbreaking!

I spend hours with these paintings. I get lost in them, wrestle with them, change my mind, add layers, scrape things back and occasionally wonder what on earth I’m doing. Meanwhile, the canvases are building up. There are paintings leaning against walls, stacked in corners and taking over my little studio. I can’t possibly keep them all, much as some part of me would quite happily turn the entire house into an art gallery.

This isn’t a business for me, not really. It’s something I love doing, something that gives me enormous joy. So perhaps that’s why selling a painting feels so personal. I’m not just selling an object; I’m parting with something I’ve put a little piece of myself into.

And yet, that’s the magic of it. The work gets to leave my hands and become part of someone else’s world. It might hang in a home where people gather, become part of someone’s everyday view, or simply bring a little burst of colour and joy to an ordinary Tuesday.

So I’m learning to embrace the mixed emotions. The excitement, the pride, the tiny pang of loss , and the absolute delight of knowing someone has chosen to live with something I’ve made.

I think I’ll always get a kick out of that.

Even if my heart breaks just a little when it goes.