At this auction, people bid with stories

Emotional Auction at Norway Maine Arts Festival Gives Sentimental Items New Lives

Norway, Maine – September 12, 2026 – The Norway Maine Arts Festival’s bustling Main Street line‑up took an unusual turn Saturday when an “emotional value auction” ran beside the usual art stalls. Instead of bidding with cash, visitors wrote heartfelt notes explaining why they wanted to take home a particular object.

The booth was set up by Cape Elizabeth–based artist Adriane Herman, who has run the auction seven times over the past decade. Herman says the idea sprang from a conversation with Katie Worthing, executive director of the Yarmouth History Center, about how families often hold onto heirlooms that have become too heavy to keep. “It’s a way to share more about yourself and your story, so there’s a public display of vulnerability,” Herman explained. “But it’s anonymous, so there’s a kind of safety or comfort level.”

Herman’s method is simple. People bring items they wish to part with—ranging from worn rugs and mismatched furniture to a case of books about golf and a pair of silky red dancing shoes—and leave a note that describes the item’s backstory and why they feel ready to release it. Attendees read the notes and then draft their own bids, written as personal stories or reflections on why the object would suit them. The bids stay anonymous, and the original owners review them and choose the one that speaks most to them.

“This helps lighten the load for some people,” Herman said. “You hear from the person whose hands it will land in, and that feels good.”

One of the most moving moments came when a woman named Celia Lubin, a musician herself, wrote a bid for a framed poster of an obscure mid‑1970s rock band. The owner’s note was heartfelt: “It makes me sad to look at it. I don’t see the iconic 70’s band photo pose; I only see Bill with so much ahead with his music and his life.” Bill, the poster’s original owner, had died of gastric cancer at 51 in 2006. Lubin told The Maine News that she wanted the poster because she knows how many good bands will never make it big. “I’ll probably never meet this person, but it’s a cool way to connect with somebody totally random,” she said. “You see this kind of stuff in antique stores, but you never know where it came from.”

Another bid that captured visitors’ attention was for a pair of red dance shoes that had been worn at six celebrations but were now out of use due to long‑COVID symptoms. The owner’s note read: “While these shoes have brought me great joy, they have also spent the last several years patiently waiting for the next celebration.” The buyer, who wished to remain anonymous, promised the shoes would keep dancing until the next big event.

A third item—a scepter with a red, black, and white checkered jester hat—was chosen by Beth Francis. Her bid explained that the scepter would be gifted to her ex‑husband and close friend, a colon‑cancer patient who “is gracious and upbeat.” The scepter’s former owner had decided to “relinquish” the item because they believed true queenship is not measured by possessions.

Herman’s auction has been held at a variety of venues across Maine, including the Topsham Fair, the Colby College Museum of Art, the now‑closed Speedwell Projects gallery in Portland, and even a trip to Kansas City. She relies on the support of fairs, local organizations, and social media to spread the word. Items are transferred by hand in her van, a U‑Haul truck, or via mail, depending on distance and the item’s nature.

“It helps alleviate their guilt about wanting to get rid of the item, since there is no profit and they have heard from the person whose hands it will land in,” Herman added. “It helps lighten the load for some people.”

The booth’s inventory also included a mismatched set of furniture, a worn rug, a case of golf books, and a box of childhood toys that a Canton resident, Sue Tubbs, compared to her own childhood collection. “This really amazes me and I can relate,” Tubbs said as she examined the toys.

While the auction’s format is unconventional, it is far from a novelty. Participants appreciate the opportunity to connect over shared sentiment and to give objects a second life. As the festival’s final bell rang, the booth was emptied of items, each one now in a new home with a story and a new owner.

For those interested in future emotional value auctions, Herman said she continues to seek out fairs and community organizations willing to host the event. “I want to keep giving people a way to honor their belongings and the memories tied to them,” she said. “It’s a small gesture that can make a big difference.”