How many artworks are out there, floating around? How many are there that no one will even see? Why do we do it? Why keep churning out these pieces of our soul, which end up nowhere… we keep on producing this aesthetic inertia- work to be discarded, or consumed and then forgotten.

And what is the value of art? Is there a way to put a price on that piece of yourself that you are handing over? Will it be understood and appreciated for the piece of you it holds? How do we determine the value of something that is neither a necessity nor a useful commodity?

How do we price our art? All we can do is say a price that reflects the time spent on expression, and the materials used to convey it to a form you would recognize. Then we hope that the piece of us that we are letting go is seen and understood just a little bit – because there is no way to attach a monetary value to that.