"If I were the gallerist I’d want to wring their necks, and if I were the artist I’d be popping champagne before the ink even dried."

Gallerists, you’re there from the start. You’re the one who discovered them. You took the risk when the work was still raw, when nothing was guaranteed, when the only person convinced this artist mattered was you. You’re the one who showed up, pushed, defended, explained, carried.

And then, out of nowhere, on some random Tuesday, a mega gallery suddenly develops a massive crush on your artist. They act like they’ve discovered some rare treasure, completely ignoring the fact that you’re the one who’s been polishing it for years.

And artists, your reality in that moment is a whole other thing. When a big gallery calls, something flickers inside you. It’s flattering. It’s surreal. It’s like someone just opened a door you weren’t even sure you were allowed to knock on. You immediately picture the bigger booths, the louder buzz, the slicker operation. No one can blame you. You’ve been hustling. You’ve earned the attention. The fantasy writes itself in about three seconds.

Which brings me to both of you, because this moment belongs to everyone involved. I work with galleries that actually care about their artists, the ones who hold you up, who steady you, who catch you when you wobble. Not every space does that, and sadly not every artist notices the difference until it’s gone. Because yes, you can rise fast. But if you slip from the top floor, who grabs you on the way down? It happens more often than anyone likes to admit, even though I wish for every one of you out there that it never does.

But here’s where it gets real, for both sides.

Some artists leap. They chase the height, the spectacle, the machinery. Sometimes it works beautifully. Sometimes the fall from that height is brutal. Every path is different.

But some artists stay.
And that choice is everything.

Some stay because loyalty means something to them.
Some stay because the person who discovered them is the person they trust.
Some stay because the bond matters more than the glitter.
Some stay because community is not a cute slogan to them, it’s the spine of their work.
Some stay because they know exactly who believed in them before the world pretended it always did.

And gallerists, those artists who stay with you, they are your proof. Proof that your labor, your risk, your belief, your discovery was not a stepping stone. Proof that the story you built together has weight.

And artists, those galleries who saw you first, who discovered you, who held the line for you when nobody else cared, that is not something you’ll easily find twice.

In the end, the artist chooses and the gallerist accepts, and whether the story ends or keeps growing, what you built together deserves its place. Respect goes to those who earned it. Always keep that in mind.

👉 What do you think matters more, the leap or the landing?
Heart lighter.
Monday Bitch. Every Monday.
Read the full rant on munchiesartclub.com. Link in bio.
And yes, spill your own Monday Bitch in the comments.

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