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One of our favorite outings together is gallery hopping, which we planned to do yesterday. But first, we had to deal with our own gallery: taking photos and packing away about 30 old stereo cameras and viewers. The plan for our remodeled look is "less clutter" — go for a gallery look, try to avoid the dusty museum warehouse look.
Then off the Memorial Art Gallery for their My America show — powerful works by Jewish immigrants on the American experience. Lots of variety and an earthy point of view.
The Calligraphy Guild show turned out to be in the hallways of an assisted living facility. Somehow it detracted from the glamor — part of gallery hopping is imagining yourself to be a sophisticated cosmopolitan, not imagining yourself using a walker.
Anyway, the show wasn't that good either. The amateur calligraphy reminded me of my own days doing that stuff: inspirectional aphorisms ("to everything there is a season") and studious letters. From their web site, I think the local calligraphers specialize in wedding invitations — way to ruin a fun craft.
Exhausted from our whirlwind jet-setting, I later stopped by Maria's. I was reminded that in the real world, families are obsessed with Play Station 3.
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