I received an inquiry the other day, asking about buying art from Artsology. The inquiry said:
“Am interested in purchasing some pieces of artwork as I’m in the process of moving to Italy to expand my business field. I just bought a house in Milan, Italy and I’m interested in collecting an artwork for a space within my house for beautification. May I look through your website so as to pinpoint my choice, request for a quote and more information?”
I’ll admit, some of the language seemed a bit suspicious: “moving to expand my business field?” “Collecting an artwork … for beautification.” I wanted to think that maybe it was just an awkward attempt to write a thought in English when his natural language was Italian, so I went along with it. But then again, looking through Artsology to “pinpoint a choice of art” to buy, that doesn’t make much sense either, because a lot of the art works I show here are art historical pieces for arts education purposes.
But, I’m always happy to sell some art, so I pointed him in the direction of some art that is available for sale. He mentioned several that caught his interest, but then asked to see some more, at which point he mentioned that he wanted to buy four pieces. The exchanges were a bit awkward, but I was hoping to sell some art, so I continued to go along with it.
But then he slipped up, or rather, finally revealed himself to be a fake. He told me to contact a shipping company via an e-mail address that pointed to a website and a business that doesn’t exist. He also gave me the “shipping address” where he wanted the art sent. Fortunately, it’s easy enough to do a Google maps search for any address, and while the address initially showed up in search results, I think it was catching the street name and not the specific address. I went to Google maps “street view” to look around, and found that the street in question is only 3 blocks long. I was given the street address of #32, but as I “wandered” via street view, I saw that it started with street address #1, and hits a dead end 3 blocks later at #17. No #32 to be found. But I did find something interesting at the dead end of #17 … this graffiti, “vita mia ti amo alla follia,” which translates to “my life, I love you madly.”
I’m a bit bummed out that the sale of some paintings will not take place, and I won’t be able to make the claim that my art is being exhibited privately in Milan … but I can have a laugh at the message given to me at the end of the line of this little mystery.