a room covered in many, many paintings from many, many different people from the very early days of time to the very yesterday…
Every one is different and not one is the same…gallery can also be a place where many people go to to enjoy meeting each other and to chat about many things that they have in commom
a vast array of artworks are described within as wholeyl wonderful, not to mention rather spectacular. artwork is containe within a gallery as is people who wish to admire said artwork. if there were not galleries, there would be no place to store artwork and then noone would be able to see it. alternatively art would lie in the street whre it would get damaged.
We’re all in a giant shooting gallery. Not of bullets, but of legislation. The patrons of this gallery are those that are pandering, for reasons they don’t even know, to the whims and the cries of the needy that will lessen the greatness of this country and lead it towards socialism.
gallery is something that is found in every city in the world.. it could be an art gallery, music gallery, food gallery, clothing gallery… It is a word that is used to describe a place where things are on display for viewing pleasure.
its insane the world, and all dimensions, and i can’t begin to think what my fifth will look like in the end. And to look at the possibilities of who i could be now is incredible, i could be a druggie, or a grade a student!
picture galleries are nice, videos are nicer. mine are arranged according to time, easier to sort and search. plus brings back memories in an ordered fashion.
We stroll the gallery, at first pausing in concert at each painting. You look quickly and fluidly, as though you are drinking water after a long hike. I stop and stick, like a stubborn drawer that won’t open. Soon you are several masterpieces distant, flowing on a river of images, while I circle the rim of a sunflower again and again.
gallery is an place where people put art. its thinking pace whwre people can go and whatch and look at things. its a hnaging space wwhere people can pu think g they want other epole to talk about and look at and to share. sharing work, expressing their thoughts on hwat is in the gallery.
I stood in awe, staring up at the painting.
“Look mummy, look!” I exclaimed, tugging on her sleeve.
“Yes, that’s nice honey” she replied, scrolling through her phone.
I looked back at the painting and wondered why. I wondered what this man was thinking. I wanted to know why he used so much hurt.
he walked into the gallery. There were thousands of beautiful paintings, but he didn’t see them. He couldn’t only see her and her piercing blue eyes. He’d never seen a girl so beautiful as her. He had to get to know her, he needed to know her name. After wandering around for a bit he walked over to her. Love at first sight ran trough his head, but then her girlfriend showed up. Damn.
Marvel at the vast untold knowledge of interesting businessy thingies, very similar to…. “Projection ratings of television programing from march 2008 to june 2009”?
as soon as i began the gallery was the only thing i could think of it was the thing i thought of museums and such it was only of art i thought about and as i saw my timer running down i could only thing paintings of which would be held in the gallery
gallery is a place where people just watch stuff and see stuff and possibly read stuff.. and where people buy stuff which they did not need in the first place nor want.
The woman walked into a gallery. She came across a handsome young man dressed in black. He approached her. She could feel his warm breath behind her neck. A shiver went up her spine and into her mind. Suddenly, memories of sitting on a mountain and staring at the stars flooded her mind. A warm hand touched hers. And then she was back into the cold art gallery again.
are intresting placeses where the mundane folk of the world go to apear intresting, occashionaly you genuanly have some there, with brains, and honour. and instead of then thinking, oh how do i look looking at this painting. theyre thinking about the painting.
It is always there when I close my eyes. A gallery of images and experiences, both good and traumatic, a personal collection of pain and pleasure. Private collection.
There is a one shop stop gallery at the end of the street. See one, buy one, and contribute with one item. These items are fabulous. You can’t imagine what people can create. Lovely stuff.
She chose to present her gallery in black and white. It was not a bold choice, really – but to compensate for the lack of color she had to serve colorless hors d’oeuvres. Those weren’t such a hit.
Leila sighed. She couldn’t get anything right.
the beautiful paintings hung on the white walls, colors in the barren desert devoid of color. The people milled past, never contemplating the beauty and effort in each stroke.
a place I rarely go to but that i am happy to know is there, even if I never visit. A place to collect beauty, knowledge and ideas and keep them for all of us to access when we are able to.
an art gallery in denver i once visited had remotes for each person. most of the pieces had numbers, which you would enter on your remote and then hold up to your ear. people would see and hear the artwork
many different types of galleries. art: containing many magnifficentt pieces by different creators music: containing different songs and compositions from different artists
this one time i went to an art gallery in the santa monica mountains known as the getty in seventh grade with my class….my boyfriend at the time decided to take me and walk around the botanical gardens and hold my hand and kissed me for the f
I think art. Like an art gallery. I would guess, like, paintings or something. I’d like to visit an art gallery sometime; maybe with my boyfriend. I love him a lot.
Hmmm…I thought I was going to the grocery store, but all they have here are pictures of fruit. I must be in an art gallery. Maybe this strange looking goblin-like man can give me directions. I hope he has something to eat….
I walk in and find an array of interesting items. “What’s this I ask?”
“It’s for armoring moles with gold plating.”
Oh. How very odd. I thought to myself.
“So what are all these for,” I said, waving my hand toward a tray of clockwork hooks.
I went to this art gallery opening at the request of a friend one time. It was interesting, there was a lot of visual art as well as spoken word and some musical performances. The uncomfortable part of the evening was that I didn’t know anyone except my friend and her best friend. This turned out to be an awkward evening as one can imagine, filled with hipsters and their art.
galeria, rustic, ancient, gothic, modern, engineerind, dimensions in which we get lost, the art in which we discover, the life that we seek, but cannot have, only in art is it possible.
gallery
balcony
places one can be
and not be
to see far and beyond
or sometimes just as far as your nose
it is intriguing
of what you view
and come to know.
We stood and look at the art, but there was really nothing to talk about. Our elbows touched gently, but I could tell by her expression that she didn’t even like me being that close.
“I think we should buy it. It would look good on the wall next to the fridge.”
There is a gallery of art. I don’t know what type of art. It’s the type of art that makes your heart stop, it can break you or make you depending on the day and how you want to look at it. Today I look at it and my heart falls and breaks. It is gone, nonexistant. The gallery has become one of pain.
a room covered in many, many paintings from many, many different people from the very early days of time to the very yesterday…
Every one is different and not one is the same…gallery can also be a place where many people go to to enjoy meeting each other and to chat about many things that they have in commom
The gallery at the National Museum was dark and sullen in the evening time.
a vast array of artworks are described within as wholeyl wonderful, not to mention rather spectacular. artwork is containe within a gallery as is people who wish to admire said artwork. if there were not galleries, there would be no place to store artwork and then noone would be able to see it. alternatively art would lie in the street whre it would get damaged.
My dream. Oh to see my work in a gallery. How fantastic that would be.
Funny how just this word can send me into fantasy.
Silly me.
We’re all in a giant shooting gallery. Not of bullets, but of legislation. The patrons of this gallery are those that are pandering, for reasons they don’t even know, to the whims and the cries of the needy that will lessen the greatness of this country and lead it towards socialism.
gallery is something that is found in every city in the world.. it could be an art gallery, music gallery, food gallery, clothing gallery… It is a word that is used to describe a place where things are on display for viewing pleasure.
its insane the world, and all dimensions, and i can’t begin to think what my fifth will look like in the end. And to look at the possibilities of who i could be now is incredible, i could be a druggie, or a grade a student!
picture galleries are nice, videos are nicer. mine are arranged according to time, easier to sort and search. plus brings back memories in an ordered fashion.
I created an online gallery for my students’ projects.
We stroll the gallery, at first pausing in concert at each painting. You look quickly and fluidly, as though you are drinking water after a long hike. I stop and stick, like a stubborn drawer that won’t open. Soon you are several masterpieces distant, flowing on a river of images, while I circle the rim of a sunflower again and again.
gallery is an place where people put art. its thinking pace whwre people can go and whatch and look at things. its a hnaging space wwhere people can pu think g they want other epole to talk about and look at and to share. sharing work, expressing their thoughts on hwat is in the gallery.
Fancy people coming there want to get recognition.
People with fine taste come there to see and experience something new.
art gallery.
my favorite place in the world.
creativity.
beauty.
no judgement,
any art is good art.
always happy.
art gallery.
I stood in awe, staring up at the painting.
“Look mummy, look!” I exclaimed, tugging on her sleeve.
“Yes, that’s nice honey” she replied, scrolling through her phone.
I looked back at the painting and wondered why. I wondered what this man was thinking. I wanted to know why he used so much hurt.
he walked into the gallery. There were thousands of beautiful paintings, but he didn’t see them. He couldn’t only see her and her piercing blue eyes. He’d never seen a girl so beautiful as her. He had to get to know her, he needed to know her name. After wandering around for a bit he walked over to her. Love at first sight ran trough his head, but then her girlfriend showed up. Damn.
Gather around the gallery of mystical documents.
Marvel at the vast untold knowledge of interesting businessy thingies, very similar to…. “Projection ratings of television programing from march 2008 to june 2009”?
Never mind, this place is boring.
A place to look at pictures.
Gallery of my fears
I am afraid of myself.
Of losing control
and being a threat to my own being.
Under the influence of a drug
or alcohol,
I do not want to hurt anyone.
as soon as i began the gallery was the only thing i could think of it was the thing i thought of museums and such it was only of art i thought about and as i saw my timer running down i could only thing paintings of which would be held in the gallery
gallery is a place where people just watch stuff and see stuff and possibly read stuff.. and where people buy stuff which they did not need in the first place nor want.
The woman walked into a gallery. She came across a handsome young man dressed in black. He approached her. She could feel his warm breath behind her neck. A shiver went up her spine and into her mind. Suddenly, memories of sitting on a mountain and staring at the stars flooded her mind. A warm hand touched hers. And then she was back into the cold art gallery again.
are intresting placeses where the mundane folk of the world go to apear intresting, occashionaly you genuanly have some there, with brains, and honour. and instead of then thinking, oh how do i look looking at this painting. theyre thinking about the painting.
It is always there when I close my eyes. A gallery of images and experiences, both good and traumatic, a personal collection of pain and pleasure. Private collection.
There is a one shop stop gallery at the end of the street. See one, buy one, and contribute with one item. These items are fabulous. You can’t imagine what people can create. Lovely stuff.
She chose to present her gallery in black and white. It was not a bold choice, really – but to compensate for the lack of color she had to serve colorless hors d’oeuvres. Those weren’t such a hit.
Leila sighed. She couldn’t get anything right.
As I walked in to the art gallery, there he was standing there; tall, dark and handsome.
the beautiful paintings hung on the white walls, colors in the barren desert devoid of color. The people milled past, never contemplating the beauty and effort in each stroke.
a place I rarely go to but that i am happy to know is there, even if I never visit. A place to collect beauty, knowledge and ideas and keep them for all of us to access when we are able to.
it would be cool to visit a gallery and see your own work on display
an art gallery in denver i once visited had remotes for each person. most of the pieces had numbers, which you would enter on your remote and then hold up to your ear. people would see and hear the artwork
many different types of galleries. art: containing many magnifficentt pieces by different creators music: containing different songs and compositions from different artists
this one time i went to an art gallery in the santa monica mountains known as the getty in seventh grade with my class….my boyfriend at the time decided to take me and walk around the botanical gardens and hold my hand and kissed me for the f
I think art. Like an art gallery. I would guess, like, paintings or something. I’d like to visit an art gallery sometime; maybe with my boyfriend. I love him a lot.
Hmmm…I thought I was going to the grocery store, but all they have here are pictures of fruit. I must be in an art gallery. Maybe this strange looking goblin-like man can give me directions. I hope he has something to eat….
I walk in and find an array of interesting items. “What’s this I ask?”
“It’s for armoring moles with gold plating.”
Oh. How very odd. I thought to myself.
“So what are all these for,” I said, waving my hand toward a tray of clockwork hooks.
I went to this art gallery opening at the request of a friend one time. It was interesting, there was a lot of visual art as well as spoken word and some musical performances. The uncomfortable part of the evening was that I didn’t know anyone except my friend and her best friend. This turned out to be an awkward evening as one can imagine, filled with hipsters and their art.
galeria, rustic, ancient, gothic, modern, engineerind, dimensions in which we get lost, the art in which we discover, the life that we seek, but cannot have, only in art is it possible.
gallery
balcony
places one can be
and not be
to see far and beyond
or sometimes just as far as your nose
it is intriguing
of what you view
and come to know.
We stood and look at the art, but there was really nothing to talk about. Our elbows touched gently, but I could tell by her expression that she didn’t even like me being that close.
“I think we should buy it. It would look good on the wall next to the fridge.”
“It’s a bulimic cow,” I said.
“Like you,” she said, and walked away.
There is a gallery of art. I don’t know what type of art. It’s the type of art that makes your heart stop, it can break you or make you depending on the day and how you want to look at it. Today I look at it and my heart falls and breaks. It is gone, nonexistant. The gallery has become one of pain.