Saturday, November 02, 2002

Met S. and B. and V. at a bar and then we went to a gallery on Broadway and Canal where some friend of V.'s was curating something. There was free booze there, not just the typical rotgut red and white, so that was good, and I had mandarin vodka and orange juice. I glanced cursorily at the art, pointless painted ceramic pieces like a large white squash. A thin blue wedge emerging from one wall, head-high. A blue pot with its lid resting beside it. There was a makeshift catalog, just one printed sheet of paper, lying on a shelf by the guestbook. The prices began at $10,000 and peaked at $26,000.