Wow. Just wow. I do like knowing that people treasure their artworks and that artworks find their way home, sometimes home after home after home. Just when I think maybe nobody really cares about paintings anymore, I find out they do.

Well fancy that, it is fascinating to see a very well crafted portrait by you, especially as I have never ever seen one by you before! An interesting story, too. Can't help wondering what Mel's painting's journey was like.

Sometimes truth IS stranger than fiction.

Very touching story. I had 2 or 3 paintings just walk away, when I was in California. One, which was one of my personal favorites, was called tea for two. It was a small table secluded in a garden spot in Cayucus, a beach near Pismo. It was painted with my heart, and came out with that sort of "feel" attached. It was only a 8x10, but it packed power. Maybe someday, it, too, will show up in a yard sale or dumpster, looking for me....Thanks for such sweet thoughts.

Dated 1964, my 24X30 inch oil on canvas painting was entitled ‘Old Russian Woman.’ She, with the twinkling eyes and wry smile has a story. As a youth in March 1965 I traded the painting for a 57 VW Beetle to transport me to college. Then thirty-one years later in 1996 the Ontario owner returned the painting to me. Thinking that the painting belonged with my family he wrote on the back of the painting his intention that my oldest child should be the recipient of this painting. At the time that it was returned to me, I was visiting from my home in British Columbia, four provinces away - a 4.5 hour flight. It could have been packaged and sent or carried with me. I chose to leave it in the care of a relative who desired one of my paintings. That was 1996. Then to my surprise in 2007 the painting once again became mine but once more I chose not to ship it home but rather tucked it behind my father's living room couch. When we cleaned the apartment following my parents' deaths, I examined the painting made the decision that no one in my family had a place for this painting. With no one to whom to give it, I left it in a public place with a sign that it was free for the taking, and with my contact information if someone wanted to let me know they had it. I heard nothing for a long time yet was satisfied. She gave pleasure to a few for a long time.

Someone saw her. Her happy, dancing eyes captured attention. Someone took her to a Benefit Shop and here is the rest of her story. The Old Russian Woman lives on. Pat gave me permission to use his name. When Patrick is not working he occasionally pops into the Benefit Shop in St. Catharines to look around. During one visit he noticed the manager preparing this painting for auction. Given permission to look more closely at the canvas, Pat found that the eyes and the smile of the Russian Woman reminded him of his own grandmother whom he greatly admired. Upon reading the tale on the back of the painting about the trade for a VW and the previous owner’s desire that the painting should be given to my eldest child, Pat considered asking the local St. Catharines Standard newspaper to publish a feature story. He wanted to send me a die cast ‘57VW Beetle and his contact information but could not locate the die cast model. Time passed and at last he chose to contact me by email seventeen months after I had turned the lights out in the refuse room. "Hello, Mr. Unruh, Just wanted to let you know your painting, which you traded for a V.W. Beetle is at my home, won at the Christian Benefit Shop here in St. Catharines. Any possibility you may write some history regarding your painting for me? Have a Great Day, Pat." He sent him the history. Then he wrote back to say that he would enjoy the old lady for a while but one day she might travel again so my eldest child could have her.

One of the most touching paintings I've seen in your collection of goodness. Thank you for sharing it and all the love you put into it.

Good story & something I've been asked about before. I've handed over a lot of paintings to people who loved them. One in particular lives in California & has moved from the bathroom to the laundry room to the kitchen (upward mobility?) as she saw fit to decorate. Others I have not a clue about and expect to run across in a yard sale somewhere. It makes me think when I'm about to send another "baby" out into the world. I don't ever give my work to someone without them asking for it. The ones that have sold - I wonder if someone's waiting for me to keel over to increase their value? Wishful thinking. I do hope they have been admired over the years and given good homes. Someone has said (many times) that something given is not valued as highly as something bought. It's not true for myself - I love gifts and value them a lot. But when someone really loves a piece of art, it becomes more than just a geegaw gathering dust in their house. It becomes a reflection of their mood, their life, their decorating tastes or it is a reminder of someone lost, or maybe a place lost, in time. Anyway, it is our vanity that wants us to keep them around; and it's our generosity that wants to let them go. Thanks for posting this article.

I wondered how many artists have had a similar experience. Mine was an e-mail from some one who purchased a 1989 oil of mine that was a commission. He found it at a Salvation Army!! I like thinking about the painting's journey…road….lesson's learned……rather than "THE SALVATION ARMY?" AND "YOU PAID HOW MUCH?"
It's all good!

I've done some painting of my grandchildren which I would like to give to them. Would they value it as I wish they would or would they sell it? I never put paintings of my family for sale. The story behind "Mel" is very curious too; it is admirable that these families got along very famously. It is almost like a fairly tale. It is very interesting that the divorce did not produce any animosity between the families instead they bonded. What a wonderful relationship indeed.

It's frightening how civilized some folks are, while the rest of us are flailing around with our resentments and anger. Oh, not me. I love everyone.

I think 'Mel' just wanted to keep an eye out for his family and friends by reappearing! His spirit lives!

I've been subscribing to your letters for some time, and I just wanted to thank you for your ramblings and inspirational messages.

Although I'm a musician ( but I dabble in pottery), I always find relevance in your messages, and enjoy making the stretch from visual art to aural art.

Sometimes we just carry on, not knowing that our work makes a difference in people's lives.

I just wanted to let you know that you do.

I was astounded one day while browsing in a junk shop very far away from my original home town when I saw a painting I had done as a young student. It was definitely mine, since it was a still-life setup with MY things. It was selling for FAR more than I ever got for it. In fact, 50 cents more, and since I had given it away initially, I let it go once again. Didn't want to pay the 50 cents.

Your latest letter about Mel and his "family" captivated me from the first paragraph, and held my interest throughout. What a blessing to be able to watch what happens to a painter's portrait. "

Sometimes I wonder if my long ago paintings are still “circulating,”—especially the family portraits. Maybe you’ve inspired me to see if I can track some down!

This is an interesting story and I wanted to tell you the story of a very good friend of mine. Years ago I painted two portraits. One of her husband and one of her. This is a family with whom I am close. The works have hung in the den of their home for years now. Two years ago the husband died leaving the mother, her daughter with her two grown girls in the house. Recently, at a party given in her honor, she called me aside and said she was going to will the two portraits back to me when she passes. I was shocked and surprised and asked wouldn’t the portraits go to the family? She said she didn't think they would want them since they showed no interest in them while they hung in her living room. I will of course honor her wishes and take the portraits back upon her death, but I am saddened to think the family wouldn't want them.
In defense of my work, I have to say the portraits were well painted and the resemblances were spot on. I guess an art sensibility isn't inherited. The family doesn't see any reason to ask me to keep the paintings and I guess I see no reason to give them if they don't request them.

Mel owned one of my works and I remember a dinner with that group

About ten years ago I sold a Picasso-like self-portrait, a watercolor, titled "Saturday Nite at the MOMA". I loved that piece and was sorry to sell it. It went to a lady who was a friend. She passed on recently, and the sons held an estate sale, and there was the MOMA .. in perfect shape, at the same price (apparently I hadn't increased in value .. ha). My partner and I went to the sale, which was a three day event, on the first day he wanted to buy it back, but I said, nah wait till the third day, the price will go down nobody else will want it; it's too edgy. Sure enough, the third day we got the MOMA back home and at a reduced price. I still love the piece. Welcome home.

In the early 80's two small unframed watercolors of red amaryllis were stolen from a gallery where I was having a show. The gallery owner was embarrassed and paid me for the work. Over 25 years later I received a plain wrapped package with no return address on it containing the two missing florals! My mailing address was still evident and current on the label attached to the back of these paintings. It is still a mystery but we have had great fun manufacturing stories around this little theft and recovery. I just hope someone who could not afford them was enjoying them all those years and it didn't weigh too heavily on their conscience.

As serious as we get with our art, our ethics, our goals, our values, our sense of what is "right" in the pursuit of true art...... we are often taken down by the simplicity of giving people what they want and that, for some reason, endures. I love it. It helps me keep a balance... it helps me to keep striving for what I want, while at the same time, on occasion..... making a few people happy. Thank you for this post!

Fascinating and heartwarming story of Mel's portrait. One sentence however left me wondering about a wandering big heart. As a surgeon I am not aware of a heart being surgically removed and then could not be replaced in the patient because it was too big??

Some paintings do have remarkable stories attached to them and artists are privileged to have knowledge of these things.
A few years back I donated a painting for a raffle at a community art show. The lady who won the raffle was thrilled to win the painting only to find it didn't match the curtains when she got home. She was pleased even further to sell the painting to a friend for a few hundred dollars. The friend proudly hung the paintings and waited for the family to see the new addition to the home. One of her daughters came home that night and on seeing the painting burst into tears. When I heard this part of the story my heart swelled with pride at evoking such emotion from one of my paintings! My bubble was soon burst however on hearing that the daughter had just broken up with her boyfriend at the very beach my work depicted. The painting was passed on again and I am yet to hear further reports on its travels!
You can view the painting in question here http://www.artofbarr.blogspot.com/2009/03/autumn-sun-goolwa-beach.html

I was surprised to find an early painting of mine in a small junk store one day and I told the owner that I had painted it. He got very excited, shook my hand and graciously asked me to sign the back of it for him. It was a pleasant experience.

This shows what we must do if we wish to record on that psyche. We imbue with images. It doesn't matter what the source, it is what it forces one to feel. You have to be alive it. It's the only speech that lasts.

Several years ago I had gone to an estate sale of an elderly couple who had purchased a painting from me and as I was walking through the home I saw my painting on the wall for sale for a lot less than what they had paid for it. I was thinking "Wow, I could buy that painting and resell it." Thinking that no one would buy it and that I could just purchase it on my out, I continued to browse.

Well, to my surprise, I was in a room casually checking the merchandise when a couple came into the room excitedly talking about this painting and how much they loved it and how it was going to fit perfectly in their home with their other bird paintings. So, of course I asked them if they were talking about the swan painting and they said 'yes'. I told them that I was the artist and we got into a great conversation where I found out they had actually bought the painting. I was a little disappointed at first on having missed my opportunity for a resale, but, I was so happy that they loved my work that all was forgiven and we ended up with big hugs all around. I went home with a big smile on my face and a little skip in my step.

This last email, from Myrna A., goes to show what I've always said: you are happier that someone really loves your work, than getting money for your work! I sold some art one time awhile back at my home, to clear out some older things, and my neighbours and friends came. The money was to be partly given to charity. A fourteen year old neighbour's son whom we know quite well stood in front of the painting I had done of the street hockey game on our street, and which he frequently played. He came back later with some money, after telling his folks that he wanted it, and then he went home with it and hung it on his wall. His mom and dad told me a bit later, that he lies on the bed and stares at it! I was thrilled that a young person would be so attracted to a piece of my art. It meant more than selling a more expensive piece.... and when things don't sell, that there have been a few "hits" over the years. When someone tells you they "just love your painting" it makes your day and it makes all the effort and struggle worth while!

I sometimes alter old postcards. I have a series based on Killer Bees (!). I gave one to a friend, showing some Killer Bees visiting her father's birthplace, Bickels Knob, W.VA. Years later I found it in a thrift shop, still framed. After I got over the little shock, I bought it, for two dollars. The man had died and apparently his widow (second wife) failed to recognize the profound importance of this work!

to Rick Rotante, If you wait ten years, the children may be thrilled to get the paintings back. This is not about the art. This is about the hyperfocus of the young on their emerging adventure. The importance these paintings has not reached them yet.

What about a collection of these stories ? Robert. Next book ? Knowing this community copyright permission wouldn't be a problem. "The Art Diaspora (A power to change the World)". I found a lot of these very moving and I am sure from the comments so did other artists and readers. Thank you.

Your post and previous comments reminded me that John Sargent made the marvelous comment 'A portrait is a painting with a little something wrong about the mouth' after a sitting in which the Sassoon family somehow got involved.

I think you should only offer criticism if it is asked for. I think the mouth was fine and it probably emotes some memory of the person in life. We could never know that just by looking.

Seems people feel required to make comments. Silence is golden.

There is nothing wrong with Mel’s mouth. The critics are probably not used to your flattening of planes to achieve specific design goals, which is not commonly done in portraiture. It will be one day described as Gennism.

I think your painting of Mel was superb and captured the very essence of the man whom you described in your writing! I feel sad for those among us who cannot control their compulsion to share their perceived shortcomings of another artists' work. I understand these unsolicited observations to be their way of coping to ensure that their world remains neat and orderly. Don't give their comments energy.