One year ago, a painting of mine called “Silver Forest” was sold from Chrysalis gallery in South Hampton. En-route to its new home in Connecticut it suffered a good deal of damage during shipping. Agnes from Chrysalis called me and explained the problem, assuring me that I would be reimbursed by the insurance company, and sure enough, a few weeks later I received a check to cover my percentage of the profit.

A few days after I received the check, Agnes called to tell me that her customer was miffed about the loss and had requested that I paint a copy of Silver Forest. I told her this worried me because I knew that Silver Forest contained many layers of paint and would be difficult to replicate. Compounding the problem was the fact that I was not accustomed to copying my work. “Of course you're not,” she snapped, “you're not a hack! Just give it your best shot!”

So I gave it my best shot, the customer was happy with the result, and  Silver Forest II was shipped off to Connecticut. Again, I received a check from Chrysalis for my share of the profit from the customer. Happy with the double sale and relieved of the burdensome task of the pesky replica, I was ready to put the whole matter behind me when Agnes called to tell me that the insurance company had not bothered with the customary retrieval the “remains”, and she would send it to me if I would like it back. Thinking that maybe I could fix it I said “yes, please do”, and she rolled it up, stuck it in a tube, and sent it off.

A few days later Silver Forest arrived home, complete with a huge jaggedy rip and flaking, chipping paint. After watching a few You Tube videos on fixing such a problem I was convinced that the job was way out of my area of expertise; it involved a tedious process of weaving all the little pieces of canvas back together under special magnification equipment, and then relining the painting with a mysterious conglomeration of potions, glues, compounds, and solvents that could only be obtained through the one conservation and restoration supply company still in existence. So I rolled Silver Forest into its tube, and left it forgotten in a closet.

After leaving it in the closet for a few months, I thought of a woman I know from the art world named Lynn. She had worked in art restoration so maybe she could advise me. She goes to my gym, so I left the painting in my car until finally one day she showed up at Pilates.  Lynn said she would assess it, and took the painting home with her. She had it for several months, and I kind of forgot about it until I ran into her recently at a Railroad Earth concert in Stroudsburg, PA. “Oh, she said, “don't worry, I'm taking care of it.” A few days later a guy named Mike called me. He told me he was the owner of a gallery and also did restoration. “I have a painting of yours that had been damaged. Lynn brought it to me for restoration, and I fixed it perfectly. And while working on the painting, I just fell in love with it! It can't be re-stretched,” he explained, “it's way too fragile, the paint would crack because of all the layers and heavy application of paint. But, if you would agree, at no cost to you, I would like to mount it on a panel which will stabilize it, frame it, and hang it in my gallery for sale.”

Thus begins the 3rd Life of Silver Forest.