Large paintings. They’re a blast to make. Many painters only seem to want to work larger than six feet on a side.

I’ve got quite a few large paintings in the room where I keep paintings. I’ve got some large canvases in the studio, ready to work. But I’m disinclined to go at them anymore.

Because where are these things supposed to go? Who has walls for all this very large art?

In the houses I’ve lived in you’d have had a hard time hanging larger than 3 x 4 feet. Or you could have gone bigger but you’d have dominated an entire wall, defying the utility of things like wall sconces, shelves, lamps.

I didn’t grow up rich. I don’t know any truly wealthy people anymore, only knew a very few in passing up until now, and of those few, two collected art, and neither collected large paintings. They lived on opposite sides of the world, yet both were (are?) intent on filling walls with small works, salon-style.

Everyone I’ve ever truly known is like me, economically. They live in middle- and small-size homes and apartments.

I’ve painted large on paper in the past year. It was fun. I’ve rolled the work up now. They’re less-demanding to store. They may never be seen again. Until a moment ago, I’d forgotten I’d even painted them.

Large paintings are the domain of young artists who don’t care whether they store or destroy them, wealthy artists who own large spaces to store them in, and lucky artists with collectors ready to suck them off the walls before they’re even dry.

That last category of artist is almost as rare as its accompanying, semi-mythical hominid Homo Ars Emptoris.