Artwork For Sale
At Christie’s, Bidding Is Strong for Even a House
In an overflowing salesroom at Christie’s, bidders from all parts of the globe were happy to pay top dollar Tuesday night for everything from an abstract canvas by Mark Rothko…The evening’s top seller was Rothko’s “No. 15” (1952), an abstract canvas in reds and yellows that went for $50.4 million, including the auction house’s fees. Two telephone bidders went for the painting, which brought a hammer price of $45 million, in line with the prediction of $40 million to $50 million. It was sold by the San Francisco collector Roger Evans, who bought it at Sotheby’s in 1999 for $11 million, then a record price.
If you like this one, I have many more here that my 2YO grandchild colored this weekend. She uses purple, blue and green.
35 Comments
Comments RSS TrackBack Identifier URI
Leave a comment





I like the relationships. I mean, each character has his own story. The puppy is a bit too much, but you have to over look things like that in these kinds of paintings.
The way he’s *holding* her… it’s almost… filthy. I mean, he’s about to kiss her and she’s pulling away.
The way the leg’s sort of smashed up against her… Phew… Look how he’s painted the blouse sort of translucent. You can just make out her breasts underneath and it’s sort of touching him about here. It’s really… pretty torrid, don’t you think?
Then of course you have the onlookers peeking at them from behind the doorway like they’re all shocked. They wish.
Yeah, I must admit, when I see a painting like this, I get emotionally… erect.
Looks like bacon.
See how “deep” lauraw is? You can tell she studied art in college.
I could never see things the way she does. I saw a baby seal being clubbed to death. Blood everywhere. But then see, I didn’t study art, so I don’t “get” things like she does.
ooooh looky what the cat dragged in
Hey! That’s my line.
And I’m tickled pink to see you too bart.
kiss kiss
Yellow underwear after after a surprise early visit from “Aunt Flo”.
is deb callin me yellow underwear?
glad you’re back, peejay.
you’re actually commenting and not leaving a link?
*touches bart’s forehead
are you feeling ok?
Hey PJ, I’m in Mobile. Should I turn right and go to New Orleans or turn left and go to Florida?
Come see me in Florida! I’ll let you buy me a beer. I’m a giver like that.
I’m heading back to the bar with the crawfish boil — no, really.
I got schooled on the proper way to eat them earlier. I am now a crawfish eatin’ “perfessional.”
Extremely yummy. Really nice folks down here, as well.
Well, Pensacola Beach was my thought.
It’d have to be a really big beer (that you buy me) to go all the way to Jacksonville. But, you never know. I was supposed to meet up with another of our moron friends while I was here and that hasn’t worked out so far. Can’t travel thousands of miles without seeing one of you goofballs.
If I turn left — it’s a deal. I’m Internetless most of the time now, email me your phone number so I can call if I end up in your area.
So that means you’re coming to Florida then, right?
What are you doing out on the road mesa? Would I approve? Do you drive naked? Do you like to stop at reststops that seem to have a lot of truckers?
You can buy me a really big beer. I’m ok with that.
I needed a road trip. I decided on Thursday to do it — so I did.
No naked driving. But, I could. I sit up high enough that only the big rigs could see me. Do I need your approval? Shuh?
I stop at every rest stop. Truckers or not.
No foot tapping.
I spread the “truth.”
I’m guessing you’re “ok” with a lot of things.
I’M GOING TO THE BAR!!!
*cough
Wait just a cotton pickin minute. What’s that supposed to mean?
Ask wiserbud.
“I am now a crawfish eatin’ “perfessional.””
This can mean only one thing. Mesa sucks heads.
Welcome back, PJ
Grandkids are gone now. I’m crashing. Nightey night.
Night Pa!
PJM’s back! Yea!
yea!
/clears throat
I mean, indubitably.
Hey Bart! I think she’s dissing us.
No way, sorry. Was trying to write a blog post.
HI guys! I missed you both…………really *cough oh scuse me. got allergies. my old hometown is quite dusty
I can’t tell you how much fun I had the past couple of days. I know that sounds odd, but I haven’t laughed and cried so much in a 48 hour period in I don’t know how long.
I got to hang out with my “boys”. After the viewing on Thursday, me and the boys got some beer and went to the old road on the outskirts of town where everybody used to drink on Friday and Saturday nights. The road out in the middle of nowhere. It’s where if you looked into the trees on the side of the road you could spook yourself out because you’re certain there’s a boogie monster of some sort coming to get you. We drank beer and we reminisced and laughed and laughed and cried till 4 in the morning.
I felt like a teenager sneaking home that morning. It was incredible and I don’t believe I could ever recreate a night like that if I tried.
And that day was the funeral. And I kid you not, it was the biggest celebration of life I’ve ever been to.
Thank you, thank you, thank you everyone for being so supportive and so wonderful. I love my new “boys” I have here on The Hostages. And of course the chickies too.
I’m glad it wasn’t just one big “That sucked”, PJM.
And its good to have you back.
This can mean only one thing. Mesa sucks heads.
You know it.
And PJ, from what you’ve let us know — there is no better way to remember his life than to re-live those times.
Well done.
lauraw,
LA Story
+ 50,000 points
Great for you, PJM. I’m glad you were able to remember your friend with laughter as well as tears.
Friends? oh no, I just found these “boys” at the local VFW hall.
Nice to ’see’ ya back, PJM. Glad it went that way for you.
Sounds like it went as well as it could have, given the circumstances. Glad you’re back safely, and Wiserbud, you’re still the man.
I was gonna say I saw a ducky and a horsey, but Lauraw has me second guessing that now.
I was gonna say I saw a ducky and a horsey, but Lauraw has me second guessing that now.
Ducky and a horsey? Luckeeeeyyyy. All I saw was the NYT login page.
Glad you’re back, PJM, and glad the event was conducive to his memory and the grieving of those that value him.