by John Dale Beety
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I owned museum-worthy art before my first Magic card.
In high school, I competed in Academic Decathlon. For the 1999-2000 academic year, the Art event focused on works at the Saint Louis Art Museum, or SLAM. My mother drove me there from Indiana. One day, amidst paper notes and digital camera photos, we visited the gift shop.
A small case by the jewelry displays held tiny glass sculptures. To my eye, they seemed plain. I didn't know much about Kiki Smith, either, except that she was an Artist who made Museum Art. But the price tag told me that I could own Art by a Museum Artist for $150. Instant obsession.
I asked the lady if I could see Kiki Smith's Yolk. She let me handle it. She must've asked why I, a fourteen-year-old boy who looked and sounded younger, was interested. I must've said something about Art by a Museum Artist.
It wasn't enough to want Art by a Museum Artist, she told me. I had to like the art. Did I? I hesitated. She took back the Yolk and asked us to wait while she went to the storeroom.