Why my favorite paintings in my studio are not my best paintings in my studio...

Recently as I was doing some cleaning in my studio, I began to look at the paintings that I have on my display shelves and lying around my studio in various places. I began to realize that most of the paintings that were most dear to me, would never be considered "good enough" to be sent to a gallery for sale.
Why are these below average paintings so special to me? Because each one was a vital step in learning something new. Whether it was a particular stroke, a moment of enlightened revelation, or where I finally "got" something I had been working towards - each painting holds a lesson... a lesson that is best kept in my studio in front of my eyes as a perpetual teacher. A full, complete painting includes every piece of that painting working together fluidly to produce cohesive beauty... my "lesson" paintings are not that at all. They're usually just one part of the whole that came out right.
What baffles me, is when I hear of students who take workshops and have their teachers work on or alter the piece they're doing, and then... try to sell the painting to make a buck. Forget the ethics of passing someone else's work off as their own - Why In the World Would Someone Sell A Lesson That Would Last Forever?
Art is collected and loved because people make a connection with it. For art collectors that normally includes some personal memory, feeling or mood that they treasure in some way, that a painting somehow captures for them. For me, as an artist, the connections I make with my paintings are the valuable lessons I've learned. The moments of breakthrough after weeks and months in the studio working on a particular type of subject matter (landscapes, portraits, florals, etc.).
So, the next time you have a breakthrough in your painting, dance, writing... whatever work you do. No matter how insignificant it may seem to others... whether it be a written line, or a painted stroke - don't throw it out, don't wipe it off, don't count it a failure... count it a permanent lesson to treasure forever and go back and study it often.
All the best in painting....
Sean Conrad