When you sell a painting and the buyer starts to cry, it makes you wonder what art really means, and why?

This post is an in-depth journey into one the best paintings I have ever produced in my entire career.  I have never spoken of, nor explained it to anyone before, and the reason I do so now is for historical purposes by placing it on the block chain.


After working long days everyday for seven months, it was finally completed in the spring of 2008. However, it was only three years ago that I finally agreed to sell the work.
And the person who bought it broke down in tears.

Considering the importance I place upon this work I feel I have to give it justice by giving a full and detailed explanation in order to get across the complexity of imagination, intention and motivation that all dedicated artists go through, and into, in order to create something truly magical on canvas. 

A painting is far more than merely an image.
A painting is captured moments of time.
An experience of love set in stone.
A unique creation that come from a piece of a human soul.
And a form of communication that can not be explained or expressed by any other means.

To create a true work of art one has to travel across space and time before one reaches the destination that leads to a creation. With this sentiment in mind I invite you on a journey that might change how you look at art forever.

With this post being  fairly long I have divided it into 3 sections so that the reader can choose to read specific sections of interest.

1st - The first part tells about the story behind the painting - the initial inspiration

2nd - The second part tells of the meaning of the painting and of its symbolism

3rd - The third part tells of the intense emotional experience I had when I finally agreed to sell the painting. 

SECTION ONE: The inspiration behind the painting
Who is the girl ? 

This painting began to form in my mind the very second the moment it portrays occurred, but it did not physically come to fruition until 20 years later.
As with all my work there is a real life story behind it.
This is kind of a love story so if you are not a romantic person then skip this part.

  

 
At age 20 I was taken into hospital with severe tonsillitis and later developed in blood poisoning.
Before this happened, I was a super-fit karate kid with a well defined muscular body. However, after 5 weeks in hospital fighting for my health, I was literally no more than skin and bone. I do not want to waste time on explaining how I became so ill because that is another story.  The point of me telling this is because it was while I was in hospital that I met and fell in love with one of the nurses who cared for me.  
Julie was her name and she had gorgeous strawberry blond hair.



When I think back, it seems crazy to me now that I had managed to convince myself that this beautiful gentle nurse would one day become my girlfriend. Considering I must have looked like a holocaust survivor I honestly do not know what she could have ever found attractive about me. I was literally as weak as a kitten and had to be spoon fed because I could not hardly lift my own arms.

There were actually two nurses on the ward in charge of my health. One was a mature woman in her middle thirties called Nurse Cassidy,  and Nurse Cassidy seemed to have had the view that patients should be abused, punished and bullied into getting better.

And then there was nurse Julie. And angel with strawberry blond hair who was genuinely kind and caring in nature and would sit by my side and chat, wipe my brow and occasionally read to me.

Therefore my treatment was somewhat similar to that of crime suspect being interrogated by police detectives using the good cop bad cop routine. One day it was the nurse from the hell, the next day it was nurse from heaven.
As you can image I would look forward to the days when it was the turn of nurse Julie to care for me, and it was this anticipation of looking forward to seeing her that probably pulled me through that tough period.

Lunch time was the highlight of my day. It was almost always soup due to my delicate condition.
I will be honest with you, when nurse Julie placed that spoon on my mouth I would often have the most erotic fantasies. Every time she lifted that spoon up to my mouth, I would use every bit of strength I had to touch her hand, pretending to help her direct the spoon. It was actually exhausting to do this but the second I came in contact with her skin, my body would fill with energy. Her smooth pinkish skin glowed with life and her bright red lips beckoned to me like a swimming pool welcoming me to dive in because you knew the water was warm.

Gradually I became well enough to return home but I was still far from being strong enough to really look after myself on my own. But the hospital needed their beds and so I was sent home. Now I was in for a period of having to build myself up again.
"Eat well, sleep well and don’t over do things"  was the doctors last advice. 

Nurse Julie came to say goodbye and she was very concerned that lived alone and wanted to know if I had a family member who could come and help me, at least during the first few weeks.
I did have a sister but I lied and told her that I was all alone in the world and I would really miss her wonderful soup. 

To this day I do not know why she agreed to visit me, meaning I do not know if it was because she actually liked me or if it was just because she was a born nurse and genuinely concerned for my health. Whatever her reason I felt like I had won the lottery when she said she would come to check on me when she was free.

Nurse Julie came on the first Saturday a week after I left the hospital and when I heard the doorbell I could hardly believe it was really happening. I figured she would change her mind or make some excuse not to come.
But I was wrong, she had kept her word

Still wearing my pyjamas, I opened the door.
She looked so different out of uniform that I just stood there staring as though mesmerized.
“You look so different without your clothes on”  Corny I know but that is what I said.

The first thing that got Nurse Julie´s attention was that she saw I had become somewhat lazy about washing myself.
Being on my own for one week had taken its toll, I had been basically lying on the sofa all day and everyday flicking through the TV channels. And so I guess I was a bit smelly.

“I think you need a good wash Arthur you smell awful. Where is your bathroom, I will go and run bath for you.”  She said, immediately going into the role of a nurse.

As we waited for the bath to fill up she sat in the armchair opposite and began looking around my apartment.
And what she saw were dozens of my paintings all leaning against the walls. And all of them were of naked women.

“Are you an artist?”  She said in surprised tone. “You never told me you were an artist”

“Did I not?  Well I´m not exactly sure what an artist is but whatever it is I am struggling at it”  
I explained
“Who are all the women?”  She asked.

“Some are paid models, some are past girlfriends and some are one night stands”  I said, and regretted saying it the moment the words came out of my mouth. I was not a tactful person at that time. Youth I guess.

“Did they all pose for you naked?”  She asked

“I guess they did, yes”  I replied

“Arthur you are full of surprises”  She said, as she stared at one particular painting.  
“I think your bath will be ready now”  She said, and got up to leave the room.
She came back seconds later and went straight to help me up off the sofa and then lead me into the bathroom.
Without a second thought she began undressing me and all of a sudden I became quite shy. 

NOTE: Now I must mention here that when I was in hospital I did get a number of what are called “bed baths”.
Basically a nurse strops you and washes you while you are in the bed. Unfortunately this task was done by the bully nurse Cassidy, and boy did she enjoy doing it. She would throw me about like a rag doll and scrub me like I was a muddy floor. It was something I dreaded but something she treasured.

But now it was nurse Julie who taking off my clothes. She had not seen me naked before,
we were not lovers, we had not even kissed or anything, and so yes I felt a bit strange. 

Julie noticed this: “Arthur, I´m a nurse, you have not got anything I have not seen before”  
And as she said that she yanked down my pyjama trousers in one swift action.

Now I was stood totally naked and she just carried on and started helping me get into the bath.
Once I was sat in the bath I thought she was then going to leave me alone to wash myself. I was wrong again.
For now she told me she was going to give me a thorough good scrubbing.
I braced myself thinking it was going to be a painful experience and Julie laughed at my reaction.

“Relax, I´m not going to kill you” she said, smiling.
I explained about how rough her work colleague was and she burst out laughing telling that the other nurses on the ward had a nickname for her. “ We secretly call her Butch Cassidy” S he giggled.
(In case you don’t know, Butch Cassidy was an American wild west gun slinging outlaw)

Julie was the complete opposite of Butch Cassidy in that she was gentle washed me as though I was a little kitten.
Unfortunately this caused me to become aroused when she got a bit too close to a certain area of my anatomy.
The words of a John Lennon song sprang into my head -  “Happiness is a warm gun”.
Surely I do not need to spell out the play on words of what John Lennon meant?
I will admit, it was a somewhat embarrassing moment, and all I can say in my defense is that I hope you can appreciate that I was only 20 years old at the time. 

Considering Julie was a nurse and had seen it all before, and so I was surprised to see her blush.
“I don’t know, men are so predictable”  She said.  
But needless to say she still kept on washing me. I also noticed that she had slight wry grin.

Three months later and I was pretty much back to full health.

I had managed to persuade Julie to model for me but as it turned out she was more shy than I ever was.
“If you think I am going to pose nude you can forget it”  She had said. 

Julie, aged a year older than I, was a devout catholic, and so sex before marriage was simply not an option.
This was new for me but I was so in love that I just decided that it was not going be a problem. 

It might sound strange, but with sex not being on the menu, kissing became the most intense sensation I had ever experienced. I am quite certain I was transported into another universe made entirely of pleasure during those kissing sessions. 

Three months into the relationship and one day I managed to sell a large painting to a wealthy businessman.
For the first time in a long time I had a substantial amount of money in my pocket.
I decided it would be nice to have a vacation together in a warm country.

One week on the Island of Capri on the Southern coast of Italy was where we ended up and my God was it warm. Don’t ever go to Italy in August unless you want to be burned alive. The bonus though was that the ocean was as warm as bath water.

Day after day I suggested we go to the beach and day after day Julie wanted to go either go for a walk around the nearby town or take a coach tour to see different historical places.
It was wonderful though.
Holding hands had never been my thing but with Julie it felt perfectly natural.
The evening meals at the hotel restaurant were also rather magical.
Being the strong christian she was, Julie had insisted on separate rooms which had immediately destroyed one part of my seduction plan. The bonus of this though was that every night it was a thrill to see her in a different dress.
One evening she was taking ages to get ready and so I told her I would wait for her at the bar.
20 minutes later and she walked in wearing a white off the shoulder lace dress that quite simply blew me away.
I wanted to marry the girl right there and then.

                    

Call me a freak if you will, but I have always thought a woman´s shoulders were magical as well as sensual, and so for that entire evening I felt I was the luckiest guy alive. 

Finally, on the second to last day of the vacation. Julie agreed to us having a beach day.
I had been looking forward to seeing what she looked like in a bikini, but when she walked into my room wearing one I nearly fell though the floor into the room below. Julie looked stunning.
I must have looked like a panting dog because she said;  “Arthur, you are allowed to close your mouth”

   

“You look gorgeous”  I said breaking my own hypnotic state.

We walked and walked and eventually stumbled upon a secret cove. I mean it really was completely hidden and it was stunningly beautiful. It was just like something you would only ever see in movie.

“Lets get naked and go for a swim” I said.
Of course I expected a quick rejection. However, Julie surprised me and looked straight into my eyes.

“What if someone comes?”  She said, and gave a sort of naughty smile.

“Who cares! We love each other don’t we. Life is too short NOT to do such things. Come on Julie, if we are not allowed to be free when we are young, when are we ?”  I said.

“Well, perhaps, but I don’t know, what would God think?  She said. I forgot to mention that back then I was an atheist and I always felt that God got in the way of people having a good time.

“Listen Julie, I respect your faith, I really do, but let me ask you a question. Do you really believe that God created everything? I mean the universe, all the planets, the earth and every single living creature on it.”  I asked.
Julie thought for a moment and answered. “I do Arthur yes. Why”

“OK, lets go with that, lets say that it is true. Let´s say he made everything. The entire fucking universe, every atom, every molecule, every fucking thing"  I said, waving my arms around

“Arthur you know how I feel about swearing”

“Sorry, sorry. OK, so we are talking about a being of unfathomable power and beyond our understanding and he made the universe just for us. Is that right?”

“Yes, exactly, exactly, that is what I have been trying to tell you”  She said.

“I know. But Julie, do honestly want me to believe that this incredible superior all powerful being, with all the universe to take care of, is sitting up there concerned that two of his creatures who might get naked to go for a swim.  Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?  
We exist for five minutes in the sea of eternity. I think if there is such a being as you believe in, he would want his creations to fill their short lives with every experience they could have.
Surely a loving God would want his children to live in freedom rather than in chains?
But hey, that is all I am going to say on the matter. I will not press you Julie. But as for myself I want to build some memories ” And as soon as I finished I took off my swimming trunks and literally dived in. 

I swam towards the gap on the rocks that headed out onto the ocean. I began diving and exploring the seabed in order to collect small shells to take home. I gathered them onto the side of a rock and then climbed up a bit higher.
Suddenly I was above the cove looking down upon it. And there right before my eyes was Julie.
She had found a flat bit of rock under the water to sit on and I could she was enjoying the warm water against her naked body.
“High” I shouted. Juile looked around trying to see where I was. “Up here” I shouted again.
She looked up.

And there it was, BOOM!  
The moment I had been waiting for.
The moment all artists wait for.
The moment when the seed of a painting is born. 

At that single moment, I froze it in time in my memory, for somehow I knew it captured every word, every embrace, every kiss, indeed everything we had ever shared, was all concentrated into a single all powerful scene.
And I instantaneously knew that I would one day paint this scene. I had no choice.

SECTION TWO: Meaning and the hidden symbolism.

Apart from the obvious of a painting that depicts a naked girl sitting on a rock in the sea, and this girl is looking up, what else do we see here?

First of all if we look closer we can see that she is attached to every part of her surroundings.
Her hair is part of the rocks and the rocks melt into a sort wire that creates strange shapes.

This represents the complicated nature of human beings. How we become entangled in ideas, concepts and beliefs that, if we are not careful, can tie us up in knots which then restrict our freedom to live.

To the right of the girl, the shimmering light on the surface of the water becomes rather like an umbilical cord.
This represents the birth of our species as conscious creature connected to the consciousness of all living things, including every molecule and every atom.

To the left of the girl we can see that a rock becomes a kind of maze, This represents our journey through life.
There are two ways to look at a maze. One as a path of confusion filling us with fear uncertainty and doubt. Going around in circles always ending up back to where we started.
Or two, as an exciting adventure with the end destination being freedom.  And even if on our journey we come to a dead end, it does not mean we ourselves are dead, but simply that we learned this was not the correct path to our freedom. Not knowing what lies ahead is part of the joy of living, for even God must envy that.
If I had to divide my life intro sections of shapes I would want those shapes to be random and strange in their form, rather than square, circular or symmetrical. For then I would know my life was unusual rather than typical.

The light beam that falls across her legs is the light of love and sensuality that caresses our beautiful bodies highlighting that the sensation of touch is the miracle that allows us to realize our three dimensional form in this three dimensional world.



We see the world with our eyes and hear it with our ears and smell it with our nose, but it is only when we touch something with our hands do we know that it is real. Therefore it is the touch of another human being that has the most powerful sensation of reality. In this world, the physical is just as powerful as the spiritual.
I try to embrace them both rather than see them as a conflict of interests.

The shooting beams of light that look rather like swords represent the energy of life itself.

The body of the girl appears to melt into the water. She becomes part of everything, creating the illusion of miniature universes within universes, and of of these universes are sensual in nature.

And finally, to the girl herself, sitting half under the warm water. She is naked yes,. but she does not feel exposed.
For she feels the water covering her body and the level of the water lies just just above her breasts. Look closely. does it not look a little bit as though she wears the water like a dress. Like one of those off the shoulder dresses?
It is as if she says; you are allowed to see this part of me, but not what lies beneath.
And in return I answer, you forget that water is transparent, which means I can see you, and what is now revealed to me, I find incredibly beautiful.

SECTION THREE. Letting go - selling the painting.

A true artist always tries to improve their work with each and every new piece they create. But as with anything, sometimes you are more in the flow than other times and it is not always clear why that is. However, when this creative wave comes along, the best thing is to do is not to question it but just go with it like a surfer riding a great wave.

It is at such times when an artist produces their best work. 

These periods are rare and when it happens it feels like you get a taste of what it must be like to be a Rembrant or Renoir. A taste of how easy it must be to create when you are a genius

This particular painting was one such time for me. 

Of course it was hard work and took much concentration and effort, but every stroke flowed out so easily that it felt like someone, or some-thing was working through me. And when I had finally finished it, I could not believe it was I that actually painted it.

This was the reason why I could not part with the painting and why I had said “NO” three times in as many years to a wealthy art collector who came back every year to see if I was ready to sell it. Why?

This art collector was actually a great human being who had made his fortune from making yachts. His first yachts he had had actually built himself by hand. And incredible feat. Over the years he had taken me on a few cruises on the Norwegian fjords and he was a hell of a sailor too.

When he first saw this painting he immediately fell in love with it.


“Arthur, I consider myself a decent craftsman. I can usually out my hand to most things. But I know it would be impossible for me to recreate that painting. I am a man who understands detail, and I have studied it in detail.  I honestly do not know how you have managed to create that effect. It quite simply exists in another dimension. I just have to have it”.  He said.

I realized at that point that perhaps it took an intricate person to appreciate an intricate painting.

I told him that I was not ready to sell it as yet and I was saving it for a future exhibition. He then forbid me to ever sell it without him having the first offer. 

And so for the next 3 years he would arrive at my village in his beautiful yacht and come and ask if the painting was for sale. And every time I said “No”

Even his wife came to to talk to me in private telling me of how much her husband loved the painting and that I must never sell it to anyone else.

At first I thought they were exaggerating but then a year later my good friend and artist, Jørgen (Yergen) came to see me and he also fell under its spell. Jørgen was rather famous artist from Oslo and over the past ten or so year we had become very good friends. It is very difficult to come into the Norwegian art scene and so he wanted to help my career by introducing my to gallery owners. Although Jørgen was incredibly successful and extremely wealthy, he was as down to earth a human being as you you get. And he had a fantastic sense of humor.  His exhibitions always sold out and he was a dearly loved character in the Norwegian art world.  Imagine Orson Wells and then you have a good idea of what this artist looked like.
Anyway, he was in the area because he was having an exhibition in the nearby town and so I guess he thought he would drop by to see me.Whenever Jørgen greeted me he would give me a great big hug and almost crush me in the process.
“Any new work Arthur?” he asked. But before I could reply his eye fell upon this painting.
He stopped talking and stared at it for the longest time. He began to breath heavily and I saw that he started to sweat.
“Jørgen are you OK?” I asked

“Yes yes, Im fine. It´s a fine piece Arthur. I think i is your best yet, I mean it. My God how did you do it?”

I honestly don’t know Jørgen. You see it then?”  I answered, meaning he could see that it had something in it that was unexplainable.

For over an hour he looked and looked.. Finally he said something I will never forget;
“Arthur, you know I have sold thousands of paintings. But the truth is none of these paintings really mean that much to me. I like the life, you know me. But this!  This is something that transcends all the bullshit. Arthur If I had painted just one painting like that then I would feel that my life was justified”  In all the years I had known him I had never heard him speak like this. I seemed to c bother him.

Six months later Jørgen died of heart attack on Christmas day. When his wife phoned to tell me the news I cried for an entire day. He was an outstanding artist and human-being and I miss him terribly to this day.

It was because of his death that I decided to let the painting go into the hands of the one person I knew who truly loved it.
And so when the summer came of the following year and Espen the yachtmaker and his wife Kate, came to visit my gallery, I prepared myself for parting with the work.
We sat in front of the painting just chatting as we always did with some coffee and cake and Kate said;
“You know why we are here Arthur, but I guess the answer is still the same?”

“The answer is yes. The painting is yours if you still want it” I replied.
They both looked at each other as though they could not believe what I had just said.

Are you serious? Do you mean it?”  Asked Kate. I nodded

I went out to get some more coffee and when I returned the both of them holding each other and were in floods of tears. I mean really sobbing, tears falling down their faces. The moment was so emotional that it touched me and I began to cry too.
Such is the power of art.
Such is the power of anything that is created from a deep down fundamental truth that was brought out from a lifetime of existence and experience. An object not created for money. Not created for fame or praise. An object not created for any reason other than it had to come into existence by the shear will and intention of the need to create and relate.

I personally brought the painting to the new owners and spent the day with them. They made me a wonderful meal to celebrate and Espen showed me where the painting was going to live.  
This is Espen below proudly standing on front of his adored possession.

I will not disclose what Espen paid  for the work, but instead of simply putting the money into the bank I decided to convert it into an object that I too would love. An object that was also made with love and has intricate detail.
A special edition Mazda Mx5. Below in front of my gallery.



If you have actually bothered to read all of it then I guess it took you some time. It also took me some time to write it. But I sincerely hope you got to at least see a glimpse of why I believe, that a painting is far more than a pretty image to hang on your wall.
What a work of art is something no one can truly yet explain.
But perhaps the truth of what art really means can be found somewhere inside the tears of those whom are bought to tears by its miraculous majesty.

I thank you for reading this post and for visiting my blog.
I wish you a warm welcome back next time @arthuradamson