This afternoon I had to take my son to the mall. He said it was for his Art class, and that at the mall they had this Art Gallery he needed to attend. Fine, I said. So we got on the car and drove to one of the priciest malls in the DFW area: Galleria Dallas.
We parked, got out and walked into the mall, past all those overpriced stores full of clothes, shoes, candies, electronics, toys, chocolates, and many more things that I do not need at all, but that I would love to have, regardless.
But we arrived to the Art Gallery with my wallet still safely tucked in my back pocket. This gallery is a tiny little set-up sticking out of the third floor of the Sacks Fifth Avenue store.
My son went in, and I sat on a bench to do some homework on my Human Anatomy workbook. After a few pages of long lists of terminology and fill-in-the-blank translations, I started getting bored.
I got up, and glanced at the display windows of the gallery without much interest, thinking that I didn't know the artist featured in their marquee, anyway. Who the heck is Robert Deyber?, I asked to no one in particular.
"Wow, they have some really nice posters…" I thought absently.
I was about to stick my head in and ask my child if he was ready to go when I noticed out of the corner of my eye that all the "posters" in the windows were pieces by Picasso, Miró, Erté… For goodness sake, I thought, they even have Salvador Dalí "posters."
They were very nice pieces. So I took a closer look. "These are not posters, you dunce!" the more snobbish part of my brain piped up.
Sure enough, I went in there and asked the Gallery person, "Are these all… originals? Are they part of a personal collection?"
"Yes! They are really real; and, nope! These are all for sale," she smiled proudly.
"What, no fanfares, no big event? Those are Picassos over there! And that one on the window is a Miró!!" I protested glibly.
She smiled some more, and pointed me to another Miró, "Well, you might like this one, then: He created this one inspired by Gaudi, you know?"
"Erm… Before he was run over by the tram, right?" glib, I shall remain forever, apparently.
Her smile remained bright and polite, but she did not speak to me anymore.
Well, the reason I write this is to inform you that, if you enjoy Art, you may want to drop by to this Gallery, or one of their other locations, and come see really real pieces by Andy Warhol, Phillipe Bertho, and even Marc Chagall! It's exciting just to see them…
But beware: after only half an hour of wide-eyed drooling, my credit card started itching in my back pocket. You may also come to experience that strange conviction that you must own one of these works of art, no matter what…
Visit the Martin Lawrence Galleries
D
We parked, got out and walked into the mall, past all those overpriced stores full of clothes, shoes, candies, electronics, toys, chocolates, and many more things that I do not need at all, but that I would love to have, regardless.
But we arrived to the Art Gallery with my wallet still safely tucked in my back pocket. This gallery is a tiny little set-up sticking out of the third floor of the Sacks Fifth Avenue store.
My son went in, and I sat on a bench to do some homework on my Human Anatomy workbook. After a few pages of long lists of terminology and fill-in-the-blank translations, I started getting bored.
I got up, and glanced at the display windows of the gallery without much interest, thinking that I didn't know the artist featured in their marquee, anyway. Who the heck is Robert Deyber?, I asked to no one in particular.
"Wow, they have some really nice posters…" I thought absently.
I was about to stick my head in and ask my child if he was ready to go when I noticed out of the corner of my eye that all the "posters" in the windows were pieces by Picasso, Miró, Erté… For goodness sake, I thought, they even have Salvador Dalí "posters."
They were very nice pieces. So I took a closer look. "These are not posters, you dunce!" the more snobbish part of my brain piped up.
Sure enough, I went in there and asked the Gallery person, "Are these all… originals? Are they part of a personal collection?"
"Yes! They are really real; and, nope! These are all for sale," she smiled proudly.
"What, no fanfares, no big event? Those are Picassos over there! And that one on the window is a Miró!!" I protested glibly.
She smiled some more, and pointed me to another Miró, "Well, you might like this one, then: He created this one inspired by Gaudi, you know?"
"Erm… Before he was run over by the tram, right?" glib, I shall remain forever, apparently.
Her smile remained bright and polite, but she did not speak to me anymore.
Well, the reason I write this is to inform you that, if you enjoy Art, you may want to drop by to this Gallery, or one of their other locations, and come see really real pieces by Andy Warhol, Phillipe Bertho, and even Marc Chagall! It's exciting just to see them…
But beware: after only half an hour of wide-eyed drooling, my credit card started itching in my back pocket. You may also come to experience that strange conviction that you must own one of these works of art, no matter what…
Visit the Martin Lawrence Galleries
D
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