Doug & Mike Starn, "Structure of Thought 6-b," archival pigment print

If I'd written this post last month or even last week, you could have bought "Structure of Thought 6-b" by the Starn Twins for $20. It was $20 for the 8.5"x11" edition of 200; $200 for the 17"x22" edition of 20, and $2,000 for the 30"x40" edition of 2.

The print from the legendary team that pulzerized photography in the '80s appeared and was gone in a twinkling, but there is plenty of notable art that is available for the same prices at a remarkable gallery online, Jen Bekman's 20x200.

Ms. Bekman's reasoning here.

Since I opened with the unavailability of the Starn Twins, let me add that Don Hamerman's "Mossball" moves me, as does Brad Moore's "Dutch Club," Amy Ross' "Manshroom" and much more. (Ross is currently on view at Punch Gallery with Justin Gibbens.)

Art at nearly giveaway prices is a swell way to broaden the collector base, but what's in it for artists? Not the money. It's an improvisation, a way to play with the system as well as open it up for those of modest means and ambitious taste. Felix Gonzales-Torres and Bruce Nauman have given away prints as part of their museum shows.

My favorite messing-with-the-money event came from Greg Lundgren, who organized a one-night art give away in Seattle in the late '90s titled "Overdrawn." He asked a variety of artist friends to root through storage and donate a piece they didn't plan to sell. The art was available free, but not just anybody could acquire it. In order to participate in the drawing, you had to prove you'd been overdrawn at the bank during that year. Hence the title, which upended the usual relationship between money and art.

Lundgren is co-owner of this bar. If you're in Seattle, stop by.