One of the questions artists hear most often is surprisingly simple.

“Can you make another one?”

It is usually meant as a compliment.

Sometimes it is an opportunity.

Sometimes it is a test.

A collector had seen The Last Stand and wanted it for someone important to him. The piece had already been sold, so he asked if I could make another one like it.

The easy answer would have been yes.

Artists do it all the time.

I didn’t.

That painting belonged to a particular moment. Repeating it would not have given him the same work, only something trying to look like it.

So I offered the only thing that felt honest.

I would contact the collector who owned the original and ask if she would ever consider letting it go.

Usually, the answer is no.

Collectors become attached to the works they live with.

This time, something unexpected happened.

She said yes.

I still think refusing to paint another one was the right decision.

Not because it protected the value of the work.

Because it respected the story the first painting had already begun to tell.

Sometimes originality is not about making something new.

Sometimes it is about knowing when not to repeat yourself.

The Last Stand eventually found a new home through an unexpected exchange between collectors.

Sometimes it's about knowing when not to repeat yourself.