602 THE AUCTION
The deed is done, dear friends … my
studio is history, and as difficult as it was (as it has been for six months,
since I knew I had to give it up) as good it feels now: It’s as though a
millstone around my neck - a ball & chain around my ankles - has been
removed. I am FREE.
Below is a bunch of pictures from the proceedings … first my studio as we knew it, then myself
with my two boys, Radjin and Yani, who helped me to step 3: The garbage my
studio was turned into after the gear for the auction had been moved to the
auction house. There were three loads like this, over six weeks.
The auction of my
studio contents is a curious chapter in my life. It happened on two levels: On
the one hand it was a most liberating incident; as I said, my studio is gone and
I’m FREE (note that I haven't retired, I'll hire studios when needed). So, I can say, the auction was great … a true advancement for me. On
the other hand, it was very hard to see my working studio set up at Raffan,
Kelaher & Thomas, the auctioneers … for sale.
And something peculiar happened: We had advertised the auction to thousands of people,
hundreds of photographers ... a bunch of photographers indeed showed up. I spoke
with them … you know why they were there? Not to buy my gear, no … they were
there to see how my auction would go, because they're considering to do the
same thing!
So when Phillip
rounded up the people interested in buying stuff, about half a dozen chaps came
to the party … and nobody was interested in any meaningful purchases. I sold
next to nothing … except for (what I truly needed to sell, because I don’t have
the room to store it anymore) my magnificent studio furniture - hand made from REO steel, by
Mark Sullivan (husband in law [go figure it out]). And a few bobs
‘n bits … all of which went for next to nothing. I was lucky to make the cost
of the removal to the auction house (to be fair, in the end I'll get twice as
much as the removal costs).
Then again, I still
have my camera, lenses and computer … the offers I got for them were an insult and made me rather
angry. I feel sorry for Phillip Thomas, the auctioneer, he probably would have
been more disappointed than myself, with all the work he - and his staff - put
into the auction.
Here then is the
take-away if you think of getting out and selling up: It is liberating, but you
won’t get any money at the end of the exercise. Ahhh well, such is life.
Am I happy with how it all went? You bet I am.
