In my last editorial, I wrote about developing a price rationale for the sale of my work and the positive ramifications of the rationale on insurance and tax receipting of donations of art. In response to that editorial, Pnina wrote to say, "I read your article in the last Opus Newsletter with great interest. First of all, I did not know that you were a practicing artist, and secondly, that you were so successful.

"Some of your experiences definitely rang a bell with me. For instance, getting the names of buyers of my art from the gallery. They are totally paranoid, thinking that we might do business behind their back, which some artists do, for sure - I even know of some. Still, this is no excuse.

"I never heard of a dealer, or vendor, as you call her, who would accept only 10% from studio sales. About 15 years ago, when I was with one gallery, I used to give them 25%. However, when I tried standing up for my rights 2 yrs. ago at another gallery, I had one of the most unsavoury and unpleasant experiences in my career, and we parted ways. I find, from my experience, that unless one is a celebrity or one's work sells like hotcakes, the dealer couldn't care less about the rights of the artist. They wield absolute power and exploit it to the max. Another thing about pricing: did you know that in France they do precisely this, they price the art by the square centimeter? There is even an official graph for it."

Pnina's letter was in response to my December editorial. Here is what I told her. I grew up possessed of some modest talents, but with a great passion for the arts. To derive my living in the arts meant I had to perform to professional standards, so my modest talents wouldn't pay the rent - I could not function professionally as a creative artist. I could, however, function professionally as an arts administrator, so that's what I became - a producer and administrator. I put together performances and visual art exhibitions and, although I was not a creative artist, my creative approach to management and problem solving served me well as an arts administrator.

After several years as an administrator, I distinguished myself from several of my peers believing that I was an arts administrator who respected artists and never forgot "on whose back" my wages were earned. Some arts administrators, I felt, seemed inclined to forget what I held to be so important. Part of my respect for creative professional artists came from two initiatives I took: One was to audition professionally for a play and to act in some minor part, and the other was to have my own art show. I have had both experiences so as to experience key components of the life of the artists for whom I had dedicated my professional life.

The acting and auditioning experiences were excruciating. I would never go through that again. The experience of having a showing of drawings and selling them was wonderful and I would happily do that again. But here's the thing, the experience I wrote about last month, developing a price rationale and everything happened because my then partner worked in a hair salon where they always had shows, and an artist had cancelled. That led to my "show" and the selling of all the work and, to top it all off, orders to make more of what I had done.

I am no visual artist. I have no style, no understanding of composition, no aesthetic, but I love to draw and I love classical imagery. What I did was draw my own versions of glorious renaissance design that I loved and scenes from illuminated manuscripts. I did them my own way, and I gold leafed the background and what I did was exactly what a woman liked who did a lot of interior decorating. She'd order up a gilded classical image, and I would do the work. It would take me about two to three weeks to do a drawing and I got about $2,000 for each one. I was more a manufacturer than anything close to being an artist, and I was on to something, or so I thought, until she moved to Toronto and I got too much administration work to keep up the drawing. The experience was, as I said, wonderful for me. Especially in terms of the link and insight it provided me into the lives of so many of you who read this column each month. Still, my experience taught me a lot, including all that I wrote in last month's column.

And "No, Pnina," I had not heard of this interesting point you make about sales of artwork in France, and thanks for the information.

Also, further to the same editorial on the value of a price rationale, I mentioned that I got my work covered with my homeowners insurance. I made a mistake. Opus customer, Sarah Amos, wrote to say:

"I read your latest editorial with great interest, in particular the parts relating to insurance. Robert and I had a very different experience about insurance. In fact, we were told that most of our inventory of artwork and art materials that are located in our home are not covered by homeowners insurance. Our homeowners insurance only covers up to a few thousand dollars for business inventory located on the premises, which would barely cover the loss of a couple of large paintings. We have to pay for extra insurance for running an artist studio in our home, because we have visitors here to do business. This extra insurance doesn't cover inventory that they feel is so valuable they would be charging us a huge premium if we wanted to cover it.

"So, I wonder," asked Sarah, "who your insurance agent is and whether I should be contacting them! Or perhaps there are some qualifying circumstances which are different for you than for us."

Why did I think I had coverage through my homeowners insurance? It turns out, I do, but it is because the policy is in the name of my business, and I live in an artist live work studio with dual zoning-residential and commercial. What I think of as my "homeowners insurance," is actually a business policy made possible through the unique circumstances of my residence. I am happy to correct my mistake and thank Sarah for writing.

Anyone interested in a dialogue with other artists on pricing, might find it interesting to subscribe to the free Dear Emily listserv. It is an incredible resource for people seriously involved in artistic practice. Want to know where to get something inexpensively, find out about something, or feedback on an opinion from about 300 other artists? Join the Listserv. It's easy. For more information on how it woks and how to subscribe, e-mail to ctyrell@eciad.ca