Back to school Tuesday greetings, collector friends! Last night I shared a toast with a six year old (fruit juice, of course) to the last day of summer and the first day of school. I'll end the week on Friday, September 5th, with a toast (bubbly, of the alcoholic variety, of course, preferably pink because it's so festive) to 20x200's one year anniversary. These two toasts will bookend feverish fall season preparations and the announcement of several outstanding editions, the first of which is today's offering from the talented Carrie Marill.

Space and Illusion is one of the many jewel-like paintings that will soon be hanging on the walls of Jen Bekman Gallery as part of Carrie's NYC solo debut exhibition, Doing a Lot with Very Little. Enthusiasm for new exhibitions is pretty much a prerequisite for doing my job well, but in this instance I am especially enthusiastically enthused about the thematic substance of the work in the show.

Being a long time internet nerd, and having dabbled in virtual worlds, issues of representation of physical objects (not to mention our physical selves) on screen have always been of interest to me. My nerd credentials, combined with the necessity borne of the gallery's cramped quarters, meant that I was perfectly comfortable evaluating work via .jpg long before it became an accepted practice in the art world. I know very well that what you see on screen is not exactly what you get, but being well versed in the anomalies and limitations of the digital realm has turned me into an expert extrapolator.

20x200 has taken my extrapolatory practice up to warp speed, and its acceleration has generated a lot of thought and conversation about art, reproduction and technology. When Carrie was preparing for this exhibition she told me that it's gotten to the point that she needs to be able to look at a painting as a .jpg before she can even know for sure what it looks like, and I was like, "Totally!" I was so relieved to hear someone who made art say something that I was somewhat secretly ashamed of experiencing myself.

Why ashamed though, really? There's an inherent practicality to the concept, as Carrie pointed out, because while many people see exhibitions in person, many more will only ever see the work on view in the virtual realm. (Aside from that, many people who see it in person will have seen it online before doing so. Whoa.)

One of the things that I love about 20x200 is how it expands the impact of an image and its underlying ideas. We've gotten to the point that our limited editions can sell out at lightning speed, as many 20x200 fans can attest. Nonetheless, all of you collectors who get these newsletters experience the art we show, and its attendant ideas, as something that you quite literally have access to. The work is affordable to most people, and so if your timing is right, you can own it. It's not in a museum, and it's not in a gallery with prices well beyond the means of most mere mortals.

I think that evaluating art with that knowledge in mind fundamentally changes how you experience it. In fact, judging from the emails I've received from collectors, I'm certain of it. I'm equally as certain that there is incredible variation in these individual experiences, which is part of the fun of it.

All of these ideas shake things up quite a bit, in the best possible way. (Although it does make it harder to get a good night's sleep, prone as I am to trying to untangle these things in the wee hours of the morning.) I like Carrie's shake up too — the paintings in the show are so lovely, and while they are very much in her style, they're also very different from the work of hers I've shown so far, both here on 20x200 and in the gallery. That it's different , at least in part, because of 20x200 means that sharing it here is bringing us full circle.

And with the circle unbroken, I am taking my leave for the day. I'm back tomorrow with a double dose of photo goodness that I cannot wait to release into the atmosphere. See you then!