There’s a quiet, extraordinary privilege in being both an artist and a gallery owner, one that reveals itself not in the making of the work, but in what happens after it leaves your hands.
Most artists create in a kind of beautiful mystery. They pour time, care, and pieces of themselves into their work, and then they let it go without ever knowing where it lands. The painting disappears into the world. It finds a wall, a room, a life… but the artist rarely gets to see that next chapter unfold.
But in the gallery, something different happens.
We get to witness the journey continue.
We meet the people who fall in love with the work. We hear their stories, see their homes, understand what draws them to a particular piece. And sometimes, if we’re lucky, we get to watch relationships form not just between collector and artwork, but between collector and artist, across time.
That’s what makes moments like this one so special.
June Stratton’s Hickory Reckoning has already lived a life of its own—held, admired, and cherished. And now, alongside it, her newest piece, The Burning Heart, is heading to the very same home. There’s something deeply poetic about that. Two works, created in different moments, carrying different energies, now reunited under one roof. It feels less like a sale and more like a conversation continuing.
Equally meaningful, three pieces from June’s new show will be joining three of her earlier works in another collection. Six works, spanning time, growth, and evolution, all gathered together. It’s not just a collection at that point—it’s a story. A living, breathing archive of an artist’s journey, held by someone who truly sees it.
And that’s the gift.
To know where the work goes.
To know it’s wanted—not just purchased, but chosen.
To know it will be lived with, cared for, and returned to again and again.
As artists, we hope our work resonates. As gallery owners, we get to see that resonance take root. We get to watch paintings find their people.
And every once in a while, we get to witness something even rarer—work finding its way back to itself, gathering, growing, belonging.
There’s nothing quite like it.
