Its Wednesday and I wake at 8 o’clock in my hotel room. I had rung my partner at almost 1am in the night to remind her to put the bin out. I had woken up in a start and had the blinding thought that the bin had not been put out again which would have meant having a months worth of refuse sitting in the bin for another two weeks with nowhere to put the coming fortnights trash. My partner was not best pleased and was alarmed by the phone going at that time of night. I had awakened her. I was later told that she had gone out immediately in her dressing gown and put the bin out. A hero. We had avoided the crisis.

So I am awake, I have coffee and I shower taking my time as I know that the art dealers does not open till 10 o’clock. I pack and put the bags in the car before checking out as reception. I had decided to have a light breakfast in a cafe before going to the dealers so I drove into York city centre and found a Cafe Nero for another coffee accompanied by a Tuna Melt. I whiled away the time mentally rehearsing my conversation with the dealer. In my head I had decided I wanted both of the Jay Nottingham paintings having been on the dealers website and seen that they had priced the two paintings the same, whereas other dealers had priced the second one at a higher price. I thought that if I could get both for the same lower price that it was good business. I went to the shop and the dealer recognised me. I told him that my partner had seen the picture on their website last night and that she really liked it and that she really liked the other one as well that was in the window. He offered to get it out for me to look at, which I agreed to. In the conversation I asked if the window one was the same price as the one I was buying and would he do both for an equivalent amount. He agreed, we shook hands and we did the money thing while his assistant began starting the paper work and the certificates of authenticity. They said it would take an hour to wrap them and do all the paper work, so I agreed to come back in an hour. I wandered off and celebrated in another Cafe Nero with yet more coffee and pan au raisin. After an hour of slow sipping, nibbling and telephone call I returned to collect my paintings which were now all wrapped up in such a way as to facilitate me carrying them both. There certificates and the invoice packaged inside. I left and returned to the car. I drove home in the rain.

Once home I unpacked all my bags, have a lunch of soup and finish yesterdays blog. I chat to a friend on the phone and then I settle down to write todays blog. The paintings are still wrapped up. Its an odd feeling, across between feeling I’ve done something wrong in spending the money and the feeling I used to get about being scared as a dyslexic handing in homework (a rare occurrence) because of the crap feedback I would get. Its done now so I guess its time to get them unwrapped and revealed to the world ready to go on the walls.

Well there you go, I guess some people will like them others not so much, but I like them. I like the cleanness of them, I like the fact that the guy was not trained but comes from a line of artists and found his own way to his own style. He is one of the current crop of British contemporary artists.

My partner goes out for an evening with a friend and I settle down to order Indian for myself and my eldest daughter and to watch football. I’ve got to the point of having runout of spoons of energy and need to just cruise through to my bed tonight. I guess the excitement of buying art can be tiring.