sirhugs
Riding to the Rescue
- Joined
- Jan 25, 2002
- Posts
- 41,723
For security reasons, the small group installing the new avant garde art work must be locked in the gallery overnight. It is a smallish regional gallery, not a major metropolitan building, so all is quiet.
The artist is a mousy looking woman, dressed in torn black clothing which shows patches of milky white flesh.
The art gallery curator is an older woman, dressed in tweed. she seems severe, hair in a bun, but about midnight, she takes her jacket off and shakes out her lush red hair.
They are assisted by a carpenter - tall, muscular, quiet, cafe au lait skin.
A security guard roams the building.
The gallery director, somewhat unhappy about the whole show, works in his office down the hall...
The artist is a mousy looking woman, dressed in torn black clothing which shows patches of milky white flesh.
The art gallery curator is an older woman, dressed in tweed. she seems severe, hair in a bun, but about midnight, she takes her jacket off and shakes out her lush red hair.
They are assisted by a carpenter - tall, muscular, quiet, cafe au lait skin.
A security guard roams the building.
The gallery director, somewhat unhappy about the whole show, works in his office down the hall...
