The Thieving Art
Collector

Just like that, I grabbed the priceless painting off the gallery wall, and walked out the back door. 

I lived in the Winnipeg Art gallery, for almost 3 years. There was an empty closet near the loading door that was unoccupied, before I arrived. Until about a week ago, it served me fine. I had a bathroom right across the hall, I could steal food out of the employee lockers and it was warm. I made it a point to fill my space with any art that I could steal from the gallery. Paintings no one would miss, or sculptures that had run their course. The walls of the tiny room, covered in stolen pieces. 

The week prior, as I was wandering the show rooms and admiring the art, I came across a new exhibit of abstract art, releasing the day after next. I gasped in awe of the conceptual paintings. I had loved art my entire life, I think what I loved most is that everyone sees something different. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, especially when it came to looking at modern art like this. I admired all of the artwork, but one in particular caught my attention. The bright colours and shapes, I saw something different every second I looked at it. I took a gander at the description beside it. My eyes scampered down the page to the bright red script. My heart jumped, “PRICELESS”. I had seen much art come and go during my time at the gallery, but never something like this. I looked around me, felt like someone was watching me, as it was the middle of the night, I shook it off. Thoughts in my mind fired, this was my way out, steal the painting, and sell it to start a new life.

No-one has seen this yet, so no-one would miss it. I thought to myself. There isn’t anyone guarding it, just a burgundy, velvet rope. I checked my surroundings, no one was around. Guards had gone home for the night, and the gallery wasn’t opening for another couple of hours.

 I could just replace it with something that I have in my closet! Perfect! 

I hurried down the hall and stairs and quietly went into my closet, grabbed the closest piece I could find, an oil of horses running through a field. I swiftly walked up to the exhibit, and just like that, I grabbed the priceless painting off the gallery wall and walked out the back door. 

Daylight was just breaking as I strode the streets of downtown. Not many people were out, so my escape was textbook. I came across two men smoking, who gave me an odd look. I simply gave them a nod, and with my head up high, I walked into my new life.

- Afton Berg / 2021