by Betty Mermelstein
It's not often
that you know someone who has his or her art
exhibited in a gallery. Let's face it: it
kind of makes you feel that you're a celebrity
yourself. You're a friend of the artist;
therefore, your familiarity gives you celebrity
My husband and
I stuck to this maxim as we entered the Bosworth
Community Center. The main hallway showed
itself to be a runway of mixed media: framed oils,
acrylics, and layered paper hanging on either
side. Our heads swung back and forth in a
tennis match of artistic attraction.
of liquor jugs was nowhere to be seen.
Not to worry,
as a woman at the end of the hall beckoned us
she effused, "We hope you enjoy the exhibit!"
I assured her, "but I don't see my friend's
painting. You see, I'm a good friend of one of
I waited for
her gasp of being impressed. There was none.
are more showings in this multipurpose room,"
she motioned to our left.
toward the area and saw a few dozen people seated
at tables, hunkered over something in front of
eyebrows, I looked at my husband.
he asked the woman.
every Tuesday, but you're welcome to go on in the
room and enjoy the art."
With that she
left us to decide our next move.
us forty-five minutes to get here. I'm not
missing Lilly's exhibit," I said
emphatically, walking into the room.
gazing at the artwork adorning the walls, looking
for our target one.
husband knocked into me, moving my finger
approaching a painting's label into the painting
around to see if anyone had noticed, but backs
and shoulders remained hunched over the tables.
we find it soon," my husband commented.
within two paintings, there was Lilly's. Such
realism! You could actually see the shine in
the glaze of the liquor jugs.
We looked at
each other. We nodded. Mission
accomplished and time to go.