A Guitar, a Ghost, and a Gavel
How an art auction and a mystery bidder helped a community.
Back in 2008, I received a message that felt like a creative lightning strike. I had been selected to participate in the Gibson GuitarTown Orlando project. To say I was honored would be an understatement. The project brought together a citywide celebration of art, music, and philanthropy, with Gibson Guitars and Julien’s Auctions leading the charge, and I was fortunate to be a part of it.
My piece was titled “The Dream of Music” - painted on an Epiphone Casino guitar using oil paints. From the very beginning, I knew I wanted the artwork to evoke the deep emotional pull that music can have on a person. Music for me has always been a companion. My mother was always singing or listening to music while she worked on her crafts. My father first introduced me to jazz and disco through his album collection. My sister would always be playing air drums when she didn't have access to a percussion instrument. That love for music has followed me to my studio, where I almost invariably will have some Coltrane, Brubeck, or Fitzgerald playing in the background while I paint. I often say that my life has a soundtrack and this piece was an homage to that.
In the painting, I included a door within the trunk of a tree - a symbol of unexpected opportunities. It represents the kind of moments that open up when we dare to follow our passions. I painted a lone musician, inspired by melody and tempo, reaching forward - undeterred by obstacles, driven by rhythm, and fueled by dreams.
Working on a three-dimensional object like a guitar brought a whole new set of creative challenges. I had to engineer a way to suspend and rotate the guitar for each painting session without disturbing the already completed areas - shoutout to the humble white cord that made many of those sessions possible. I carefully mapped out my design on paper before bringing it to life on the guitar. It took about a month to complete, and every minute was a joy.
When auction night finally arrived, hosted at the Sharp AQUOS Theatre inside Universal’s CityWalk, the atmosphere was electric. My wife and I had just gotten married, so it was a beautiful full-circle moment to share this experience with her. There we were, surrounded by artists, collectors, and philanthropists, all gathered to celebrate art and raise funds for causes close to the heart of the Orlando community.
One of the most thrilling moments that night unfolded as the hand-painted guitar I designed became the epicenter of an exhilarating bidding war. The air crackled with anticipation as an in-person bidder fiercely contended with a mysterious, anonymous participant on the phone — a ghost of sorts.
One of the event staff, after a little nudging, reluctantly hinted at who the mystery phone bidder might have been. A giant in the world of luxury hospitality. Someone known for collecting bold, museum-worthy pieces and proudly showcasing them in grand, public spaces. The idea that a figure of that stature may have been behind the bidding — someone with both the eye and the means to shape cultural conversations through the art they collect — said something. Not just about the event, but about the presence of the piece itself. It was as if a ghost had passed through the auction, unseen yet unmistakably present, leaving behind a story that still haunts the strings.
As the auctioneer called out bids, I sat in the audience hearing them volley back and forth. It was surreal. Eventually, my guitar sold for one of the highest bids of the night. I haven't seen it since, and part of me hopes it's out there, proudly displayed or gently strummed by someone who sees the magic in it.
But more than the prestige, what stayed with me was knowing that this piece - this labor of love - contributed to something bigger. Proceeds from the auction benefited several incredible organizations: Page 15, The Downtown Arts District, Parramore Kidz Zone, and The Central Florida Commission on Homelessness. That night, my paintbrush helped feed someone, tutor a child, and uplift a struggling family. That’s the kind of purpose I strive to bring into everything I create.
Even now, writing this, I feel a renewed sense of responsibility to continue creating art with a purpose. Not just for the sake of beauty or expression, but as a catalyst for change. This guitar was a reminder that what we make with love and intention can ripple outward in ways we may never fully see.
And if - by some miracle - the person who bought my guitar is reading this... I just want you to know: I hope it’s brought you as much joy as it brought me to create. If you ever feel inclined to share a photo or let me know where it lives now, it would mean the world to me.
Until then, keep dreaming - and keep listening to the music.
Juan Sepúlveda
Artist | Storyteller | Eternal Student of Rhythm and Paint
