I am an art gallerist. A gallerina, if I’m being flip. A person-behind-the-big-imposing-desk, if I’m being snide. I’ve worked in a handful of art galleries in Seattle over the last few years, and it’s work I deeply enjoy: creative, challenging, and different every day. Art galleries offer knowledgeable staff, help nurture artists, provide a stage for lively cultural discussion, and are a great way to get to know the character of a city. In that way, they are close kin to art museums—except you can take home your favorite piece at the end of your visit.

But being behind the desk has also made me realize that galleries are often seen as intimidating, unwelcoming, and confusing. It’s frustrating for me to know that, sometimes, they can be all of those things. Often the discomfort stems from a gap in perception: visitors are unsure whether they are welcome, whether they can ask questions, and gallerists sometimes aren’t willing to clue them in. I meet people who walk into the gallery assuming that I will ignore them if they aren’t dressed a certain way; I hear people snap “I’m not rich, okay?!” if I so much as smile; I see people smother their questions about the art and not ask them; and, most distressing, I watch as people dither outside the door and choose not to come in at all. I’d like to address some of the most common misconceptions I encounter on a daily basis, in the hope that I can de-mystify the gallery world, and provide solid advice for when you find that piece that you honestly cannot live without. The common denominator in all of this, as you’ll find out, is the simple word: ask.

How do galleries function? Are they museums or stores, or what?

Art galleries operate by representing and selling the work of artists, usually by having rotating exhibits of art through the year. Where they differ widely is what they sell: some galleries will focus on one medium—like glass or photography—others on a specific genre (Native American, abstract expressionist, pop-art, outsider art, etc), or a region, or a time-period. Some are art cooperatives, and the person behind the desk will be artist her or himself, while others will hire staff who have never touched a paintbrush and have skills in arts administration or advertising. The goal of all commercial art galleries is to display the work, educate visitors, and sell the art. To that end, they are a cross between a store and a museum*.

Why should I bother coming in? And will you be snobby if I do?

A gallery is a room filled with Really Cool Stuff. Most of us spend our days using and looking at things that are meant to be useful, utilitarian and necessary. But a gallery is packed with the unusual, the bizarre, the breathtaking, the heartbreaking, the thought-provoking and the downright tantalizing. Come in and have an art break. Nope, there’s no ticket, it’s free**. Bring your lidded beverage, your well-behaved child/pet, and come in. You’re not planning to buy? Come in. You don’t know anything about art? Come in. You’re not an “art person”? Come in, come in, come in.

Now, I am not going to be snobby. I am going to greet you cheerfully, or at least squinch my face at you in that I’m-super-busy-and-stressed-out-but-I’m-still-happy-you’re-here way, or give you a finger wave if I’m on the phone. But, unfortunately, the aloof gallerist stereotype can be a reality—I won’t pretend otherwise. I recently greeted a gallery visitor and she said, “I’ve been to every gallery in this neighborhood, and you are the first one to greet me.” So, on behalf of all the nice, friendly gallerists: I am so sorry, you guys. It’s not all of us, I promise. Come in, come in, come in.

Regardless if they face-squinch you or give you a big howdy, or don’t seem to notice you, that person behind the desk is your gateway to answers. Because you’re about to look at some art, and you’ll probably have questions. Which, oh my gosh, ask them. Art is doing its job if it is making you ask questions. How was this made? What’s it made of? Did the same artist make all of it? What inspired them to make it? Can I see more of this person’s work? Do you have information on the artist that I can have? These are all great questions! Ask them. The person behind the desk has probably just spent the last month working with the artist, writing about the art, and promoting the show, so they will have a lot of answers for you.

Okay, I’m in, and I’ve dished with the gallerist. Or did a mutual ignoring thing with the gallerist. Whatever. Now what?

Now, I want you to consider purchasing something.

But I’m not rich! I hear you cry.

I know. I’m not rich either. (Having any sort of career that touches the arts doesn’t make for a hefty paycheck, Gagosians and Hirsts aside.) And, truthfully, the majority of people who have purchased art from me are not rich. Yes, they have disposable income—I won’t lie and tell you that you should be buying art if you are living hand-to-mouth or have no employment, that’s something for down the road —but they are not millionaires.

Galleries are about art. We want you to fall in love with a fantastic piece of art that will make your home more beautiful and your heart sing when you encounter it each day. But galleries are also businesses with taxes and rent to pay. And their primary purpose is to sell the art in order to support the artists, recoup the expenses necessary to make/house/promote/exhibit the art, and be able to keep the artist making said art. Therefore, we really want you to purchase something that you have fallen in love with, and we will do everything we can to help make that possible.

Ask about making layaway payments. Don’t be embarrassed. I don’t know a single gallerist who would refuse to break a purchase into monthly payments. (That’s how I afford art when I buy it.) Will that painting dazzle you and make you happy every time you see it? Yes? It’s $1200 and you can’t justify that? Pop $100 down each month for a year, and—Happy New Year!–it’s yours forever. (Yes, precious, all yours.)

Is it totally and completely out of the budget, but you can’t stop thinking about it? Ask if there is other work by the artist. Because, I can almost guarantee you, there is always more. Do you like a piece but it’s too big, too expensive, too orange and stripey? There might be another. There might be ten others. Maybe there’s even a slightly damaged, prototype, or really old version that the gallery would love to sell you for less so that they can stop paying to insure it.

Ask about commissions. Yes, friends, you too can be a bonafide arts patron and commission an artwork from an artist like a power-hungry Medici lord. You might be able to commission a piece that’s similar, smaller, or less involved. And you’ll get to know the total high that is being an arts baller.

I’ve thought about starting an art collection, but I have no idea how to do it.

Oh, you’re about to embark on a magical adventure, with a gallerist as your elven guide! Do some homework, find out a little about what kind of art attracts you—are you a texture and color junkie? Are you drawn to exotic materials? Is the imagery more important than the medium? Do you just really love birds/monsters/naked bodies/blue/triangles?–and then find a gallery with a critical mass of stuff that you like. If you can give a gallerist a good sense of your taste, and a basic budget or criteria, they’ll send interesting things your way and might even let you preview new works before they’re generally available.

Also, if you’re collecting for investment purposes, I have some bad news: not all art will increase in value. Sorry, them’s the breaks. There are ways of collecting for investment, but they’ll involve a lot of careful research and a really great relationship with a gallerist. It’s a viable option, but I suggest just starting by collecting what moves you, makes you laugh, makes you think, and keeps you interested.

Why should I buy from a gallery? I can track down the artist online, buy work from them, and support them directly.

Please don’t do this. Seriously. Cutting the gallery out makes baby Jesus cry. It is super unethical. Galleries devote huge amounts of time and money on promotion, housing and insuring the work, paying rent on a space that is in a high foot-traffic area (read: expensive), and often underwriting the creation of the work itself. Remember how I mentioned that the person behind the big desk is really busy? They’re spending their time designing brochures and catalogs with photography that may have been paid for by the gallery. They’re purchasing ad space in magazines, newspapers and online. They are writing press releases to send to media outlets; conducting artist interviews; updating the website. They are corresponding with museums to secure a show for the artist or to collect a piece, applying to residencies on the artist’s behalf, and cross posting on social media. They are also ordering the paint, vinyl letters, food, power tools, extra light bulbs and new plasterboard that it will take to open the artist’s new exhibit.

You might say, I didn’t even see the work at your gallery, so it doesn’t affect you. That may not be true: if you’re looking at an art display in a hotel lobby, an airport lounge, a salon, a cafe, a convention center, or even in a museum, a gallery may have organized it. So, when someone buys the work straight from the artist, they are not only stealing the sale from the gallery but also negating all of the time and money the gallerist spent. The more it happens, the fewer sales the gallery gets, the more likely the gallery is to close, and that means fewer venues where artists can show their work (and where you can flirt with well-dressed art walk patrons.)

And that’s the final word from this gallerina! Throw your questions and strenuous disagreements into the comments. Happy art-viewing.

*Anyone who wants to get into a slap-fight with me about art museums and art galleries being kissing cousins can go right ahead. I started on one side of the argument and was converted to the other.

**There are non-profit galleries that don’t sell art. They function more like museums, and aren’t really pertinent to this discussion. In those cases you may have to pay a ticket price to enter. And, just to confuse matters, there are museums out there that have the word “gallery” in their titles. Art, man, wow.