Pulling out my Moleskine journal I remembered back to the day we visited the art gallery. Walking barefoot down the hall to the gallery, mindfully of course, I entered in through the doubled doors. The first thing that caught me eyes weren’t the art works themselves but the way they were hanged. A single strand of steel cable levitated the pieces in air, bursting out from the white painted background. The one piece that is stuck in my mind I can remember but not the artists name. Distressed wood was nailed together, former spots where nails were drove still visible on the surface, the cracked ruffle of the wood splintered up where the nail had pierced its surface. This piece connected with me, maybe because I’m a woodworker, maybe because it’s just cool. Either way its the one peice that caught my eye. The colors from the paintings on the wall, all their hues shone together to create a beautiful piece of art, each one different yet all adding to the art that is the gallery. I thoroughly enjoyed the art gallery. Too bad West shore doesn’t have a furniture class because I would love to get one of my pieces in the gallery.
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