02/21/2026
This weekend, I’ll lock the doors to The Covert Collection for the last time.
And I keep going back to how it all started.
Two years ago, I walked into Donna Compton’s gallery to drop off a framed piece for the Highlands show. I told her how much I admired what she had built and that maybe one day, after I retired, I would open a gallery of my own. She smiled and said, “Why wait?” Then she showed me the empty space at 818A Main Street.
It was meant to be an apartment. But when I stepped inside, I didn’t see an apartment. I saw possibility. I saw walls filled with photographs. I saw artists taking a chance. I saw a space where people could gather and feel something real.
I told her I needed a day. The next afternoon I came back with Trish and Meghan. We stood there for maybe ten minutes before they both said, “Let’s do it.” That belief changed everything.
Nick and his team truly brought the space to life with their construction skill and craftsmanship. They transformed what was once an apartment into a gallery we were proud to open to the public.
Then, just two weeks before opening night, the apartment upstairs flooded and water poured into our bathroom. It could have derailed everything. Instead, Nick and his crew stepped in calmly and went right to work. They handled the damage quickly, professionally, and without panic. Because of their steady hands and experience, we still opened on time, with days to spare.
We would not have met that opening date without them. Their work and their composure made all the difference.
Chris and Jennifer Venturini took my logo and made it real. Seeing it placed on the door and above the center hallway for the first time made everything feel official. It was no longer just an idea. It was ours.
And then opening night came.
More than 200 people packed into that little gallery. There was a line down Main Street. Friends. Family. Former colleagues. Fellow photographers. My Navy brothers. They came because they cared.
And my dear friend Anthony from A&A provided the food I love most. He didn’t just cater an event. He gave from his heart. He has always taken care of me, and that night was no different. I am deeply grateful to him and his family for the way they show up with generosity and love.
That night overwhelmed me in a way I still feel when I think about it.
I need to say more about Bob and Donna Venturini.
Every First Friday, they went all out. This was never simple catering. The food was thoughtful, beautifully prepared, and on a level you would expect from a Michelin-quality kitchen. Bob’s homemade smoked sausages became a signature. People asked about them before they even walked through the door.
I’m not exaggerating when I say some nights people showed up just for the food.
But it wasn’t only about what was on the table. It was the care behind it. Month after month, they gave their time and talent because they believed in what we were building. That consistency and generosity became part of the heartbeat of The Covert Collection.
Over the next two years, those walls held so much life. Music from Rich Soni, John Cain, Delirus XM, Sisterly Harmonies, Mary Byrd, K&P Acoustically, The Lemonade Boxcars, and The Trio.
I was intentional about the photographers I invited into the gallery. I sought each one out because I believed in their work. Not because it matched mine, but because it didn’t. Each artist brought something different. A different eye. A different voice. A different way of seeing the world.
Together, that diversity allowed us to showcase a true range of talent. From quiet, contemplative landscapes to bold compositions and deeply personal storytelling. The walls felt alive because no two perspectives were the same. That contrast was the strength of the space.
That foundation built by Chad, Katie, Nate, and Scott. Powerful work from Miroslav, Kara, Rachel, Cary, Mary, Cheryl, Gil, and so many others. In these final months, Joe, Scott, Jeffrey, and Rachel brought friendship and laughter that made this ending feel full.
And Scott was there every First Friday, without fail, talking the place up and mingling with everyone. I never needed a PR person. He was a one-man PR company.
Although, to be fair, it’s possible part of the motivation was knowing he could swing by Meli’s Sweet Shop for ice cream afterward. I’ll let him confirm or deny that.
A lot of good came from this gallery experiment.
Friendships were formed that will last well beyond these walls. The networking was real, positive, and rewarding. Conversations turned into collaborations. Introductions turned into opportunities.
I know I watched my own work expand and grow during this time. My approach changed. My storytelling deepened. Doors opened within the arts that I simply would not have had access to if I had never taken the risk and tried.
This is not goodbye.
This is thank you. Thank you for everything.
And I truly believe the future holds even greater opportunities ahead.
