PLEASE SEE PURCHASING LIMITS BELOW.
Warm and fuzzy, nearly-Friday greetings, my friends. With tomorrow's standard shipping deadline upon us, the procrastinators among us might be getting a wee bit anxious about what to get for whom and how and when. Fortunately, we've got plenty of options for indecisive perfectionists who end up waiting till the last possible minute to settle on something for someone. (Not that I know what that's like. No, not me!) Sara and I will visit your inboxes with options and ideas a few more times before Christmas Day, but today's editions from JBP family favorite William Wegman are the last new prints we've planned with gift giving in mind.
I've been wandering around my apartment for the past few hours trying to figure out what to write about Blizzard and Game Board, and everything that's sprung to mind has felt implausibly perky and sentimental. A few hours into trying to navigate around it, I decided to give in. Want to skip ahead and get your art on without reading? Probably a good idea, considering how fast-moving Bill's editions have been in the past. But first, please read through a few limitations and restrictions related to these very special editions:
- There is a limit of two 10"x8" and two 14"x11" prints, and of one 20"x16" and/or 24"x20" print, per edition, per collector.
- This edition is not eligible for any discount or promotion.
- We reserve the right to refund purchases if we determine that a single collector has acquired multiple prints and/or used a discount code.
It's certainly a special thrill to have the opportunity to offer the work of such a legendary artist to our collectors not once, not twice but three (!!!) times and my pleasure of doing so is only enhanced by how much Sara and I have enjoyed planning these editions at Bill's studio.
As I described when introducing About Four Thirty and The Architects, our initial interactions with Bill led me from awareness—he IS the dog guy after all, right?—to admiration—he also happens to be an artist with a serious, enduring and varied practice. Nearly a year later, after several afternoons spent at his studio checking out paintings in progress, poring through the archives with Jason Burch and sipping tea with sharp-eyed curator and art dealer Christine Burgin (who is a delightful human being and also happens to be Bill's wife)—all of this conducted with a passel of loving Weimeraners swarming around our knees, naturally—my admiration of Bill's practice is fortified with deep affection for him and his whole pack.
I'm grateful every day for this life I have, getting to know artists, working with a group of amazing people to share their work with all of you, and receiving the most heartfelt of thanks nearly every single day for doing so. What makes it all so truly incredible are the essential truths uncovered at every corner of those interactions. Artists, whether renowned or undiscovered, thrive with acknowledgment and careful attention. People who work hard for something they believe in are deeply satisfied (even when frayed by just how hard they're working). Collectors—thousands of them—discover just how fulfilling it can be to live with art, and to play a role in supporting artists in their practice.
Our relationship with Bill affords me the best incarnation of all of these things. I can't tell you how much it means to me that he invites me into his studio and wants to hear what I think about his paintings in progress. (And I can scarcely believe that he does!) I get to go there with Sara, who is an amazing person to work with; back at the office, we keep company with an incredible array of remarkable people on our team. And then there are all of YOU. It makes me really happy that all this goodness that I get to enjoy gets art into your hands.