Well, the clock is ticking. And so far only one of my subjects has come forward with an offer to purchase their painting. The price is $100. A wise person might make a gamble on the fact that the value could increase once I die and am finally discovered via my letters to my brother Theo, er, Donald, asking for money. I believe a van Gogh recently went for $66 million at Christies. Come on, people, take a chance. Anyway, today I moved the exhibit to a retirement community in Frisco where we fill the walls with art. The activities director, on seeing my work, was speechless. She's either in the "this guy will be very valuable when dead" camp or in the "this is a terrible mistake" camp. If she's in the latter, I will have some more work to do taking down paintings soon.
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