On 18th of June, with the little one with gigantic blue eyes eating cereal from the cupboard and the larger one with clear blue eyes staring at the goggle-box, I showed someone my work.

“I like these,” he* said.

“Want a print?”

“Let me look at them with the aim of decorating my apartment.”

An hour later, we had hashed out a deal dependent on it being possible to photograph the piece in question. The thing that really amazed me is that we have never met in person; he saw my work on flickr from a URL I sent him in chat. Until he said seriously that he would like a piece of my artwork, we had kept clear of names. He did not have to listen to the further adventures of Mr Happy played at full volume, or the wails of a small child being benched for egregious misinterpretation of the uses and purposes of a cupboard door. I did not have to find out his address**, and it was purely through politeness that he mentioned his name, Charles***.

The internet is truly a thing of wonder.

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*Client is male for the purposes of this story, as I am female, and it avoids pronoun problems.
** He will be buying via a printing agency that will act as my agent.
*** Client is called Charles for the purposes of this post. Client may or may not be the future King of England. On balance, I think not.