On April 5th, 2025, something truly special happened in the little town of Sierra Madre. The opening night of Common Thread: A Group Art Exhibit at Baldwin Ave Gallery (The BAG) welcomed nearly 700 guests. I never expected that kind of turnout, and the experience is something I’ll cherish for a long time.
But that night was just the beginning.
For the first time in my creative career, my work stayed up on gallery walls for a full month. Not just a pop-up for a day or two, but thirty days of living and breathing in the same space. That alone was a big moment for me. I’ve done many markets, one-day shows, and product pop-ups, but this was different. My paintings got to sit with people. They got to be seen.
And some of them found new homes.
Knowing that people not only connected with my fine art but wanted to live with it — that feeling is hard to describe. It’s like a portion of my heart is shared daily with the collector in their home or office. It’s thrilling, humbling, and deeply affirming. It is a constant reminder to me why I love painting and why I need to continue showing my fine art to the world.
Most people know me for my Armenian characters and illustrations. So when visitors saw these pieces, their surprise was genuine. I heard things like, “Wait, Arpi, these are yours?” and “I didn’t know you painted like this.” And then came comments like, “I want this in my home,” or “I’m in love with this piece.” Those moments touched me deeply. I showcased 15 works, half found their forever homes, and each conversation around them reminded me that vulnerability in art is always worth it.
Curating the show was also a first for me. There were eight incredible artists total, and pulling everything together from planning and layout to promotion and opening logistics was a huge learning experience. It came with challenges, of course, but also so much growth. And when the show opened, it all felt worth it.
Throughout the month, the gallery welcomed visitors: art lovers, friends, collectors, and plenty of new faces. The Armenian community came out in full support, which meant a lot to me. The conversations were organic and genuine. People reconnected, discovered new inspirations, and left feeling uplifted. That sense of community, of shared purpose through art, was at the heart of it all.
One thing that made a big difference was marketing. We put real effort into spreading the word on social media, through newsletters, with the press, and by reaching out personally. It worked. People came. People cared. If I were to do anything differently next time, I’d add a soft private opening, something more intimate for collectors and supporters before the big public event.
By the end of the exhibit, I walked away with more than just good memories. I made valuable connections with other artists, collectors, and curators. One gallery has already reached out to talk about future opportunities; I was commissioned to paint and already completed a personal piece for a first-time collector; and two of my latest paintings have sold.
But what matters most to me is what I’ve learned. To stop hesitating. To show the work. To not hold back or play small just because something feels new or uncomfortable. That’s how you find your audience, or what I call, your tribe. The truth is, the only way to grow is to be as authentic as you can to first and foremost yourself, to take that vulnerable leap even with the looming fear of judgement and rejection-continue to experiment, play and share your joy with the world. It’s the best kind of contagious.
I’m proud of what we created with Common Thread. Grateful for everyone who made it possible, especially The Baldwin Avenue Gallery-The Bag, in Sierra Madre, CA. As part of their support, the gallery generously donated $2,392.50, a portion of their proceeds, to my nonprofit, Arpi Publishing. The show may be over, but its impact is still unfolding. And I know now more than ever that this is only the beginning of the new chapter of my life as a fine artist.
