I collected my first piece of original art under unlikely circumstances. It was 2002 and my husband, Matt had just graduated from business school and had several months before he started a new job. I had decided to leave the classroom and pursue a career in educational publishing. At the moment, though, I was unemployed. We were still early in our marriage and we had just bought our first home, a condominium in Evanston, Illinois. While there was a job on the horizon, we definitely were feeling house-poor.

We had been invited to attend two weddings a week apart from one another—one in Boston and one in Princeton, New Jersey. We decided that the most economical way to handle the trip would be to take a road trip back for the first wedding and then travel our way down to the second wedding before heading home.

My family had often spent summer vacations on Nantucket, but that seemed a bit too long of a ferry ride for such a short trip. Matt suggested that we spend a few days on Martha’s Vineyard instead, before heading down to see friends in the New Jersey area. I was absolutely thrilled with the idea! With even further economy, we decided to forego staying at a charming B&B or fancy hotel, and instead we got a space on the Martha’s Vineyard campground!

We were so proud of this savings. It allowed us to emerge from our tent, dressed to the nines, and go to many upscale Vineyard restaurants! It was on one of these jaunts into Edgartown, when we found ourselves in the Old Sculpin Gallery, an artists’ collective. I strolled through the images and found myself in front of a gorgeous oil pastel of the view of Edgartown from Chappaquiddick by Gail Rodney. It was so beautiful. I immediately grabbed Matt’s arm and said, “Look at this.” He looked at it and said, “Wow. I really like it.” We gazed at the artwork for awhile, noticing all the details. I saw that if you looked closely the gallery building was in the image. I felt the wind in the grasses and the sunlight reflecting on the water. The work captured the fun of being young and on Martha’s Vineyard.

We left the gallery and continued with our day. I couldn’t get that that beautiful piece of art out of my head. That night while sitting at our campsite, I turned to Matt and said, “I loved that oil pastel.” He nodded, “I know. But we can’t afford it.” I agreed. I knew it was out of our range.

The next morning, I woke up with the artwork on my mind. I turned to Matt and said, “I can’t leave that oil pastel on Martha’s Vineyard. It is meant to be ours.” He looked at me and smiled. We got in the car and drove to the Old Sculpin Gallery. There we bought ourselves a “paper” wedding anniversary gift (a year later than planned). It was a stretch for us. It was a reach for us. It has hung proudly in our first dining room, over our second living room fireplace, and now in our final fireplace. 18 years later, I look at that painting and remember the joy of being young and camping on Martha’s Vineyard with the love of my life.

Collecting art is an investment. It can feel like a stretch. I have hesitated and lost out on work that I still think about. There are times that practicality has weighed out over desire.

But I will say this… I have enjoyed that beautiful Gail Rodney oil pastel every single one of the last 6,511 days since I bought her. I have never regretted making that stretch.