I had a gallery show last night, which is a lot of work to put on, but also very enjoyable. I love meeting people at these events and they area great source for contacts, talking to some interesting folks and even some revenue.
About halfway through the evening a couple walked in. The man was a big, friendly bruiser and he walked straight over to this black & white, unframed print that was hanging up. I watched him peer closely at it for a moment and then turn to his wife and say something. She shook her head approvingly. Curious, I walked over to them to see if they had any questions about the image.
In the way of background, this has always been one of my favorite images, if for no other reason than it reminds me of the day I took it. I was in Canada and was taken to this spot by a friend of mine, the talented photographer Darwin Wiggett. We hiked through pristine woods to find this vehicle sitting in the midst of a forest. How did it get there? When did it get there? Most curious was what model car was it? I figured I’d never find out.
Now back to my story at the gallery. I walk over to the couple and introduce myself. The man turns to me and, pointing to the print, simply says:
“1942 Chevy Coupe with suicide doors and a Flathead V-8 engine.”
At first I stood there dumbstruck. Then I burst out with a hearty laugh, thanked him profusely and wrote down the information as he repeated it to me. He walked out and I smiled for the rest of the evening every time I glanced at the print.
You just never know.