Art speaks to the human soul. It makes us feel connected, heard, and can evoke plain awe. I still remember the way I felt when I saw Lubaina Himid’s dazzling colours at the Tate Modern and Kehinde Wiley’s stunning scenes from his work The Prelude at the National Gallery. I was left speechless and spellbound, and this especially happens to me with Black art.

For me, nothing can compare to seeing myself reflected in artwork and I can come up with a thousand more examples where our art has had this effect on me. In spite of this, I could only name a handful of moments where discussions with friends focused on owning any of these enchanting pieces. As we traverse galleries around the city, we are always the spectators, never the customers. But why not?

When you think of someone that collects art, you likely think of someone (very) rich and (very) white. You probably imagine art hanging in mansions, under glittering chandeliers, or filling the spaces between thousands of bookshelves within an at-home library. In those worlds, art is abundant and not only a pretty picture gracing the walls. It is a part of their investment. The goal is that these works will appreciate in value and they will be able to put a higher and higher price on their beauty.