If you are in Jerusalem, standing at the bottom of Ben Yehuda street where it intersects with Jaffa Road, there’s a Bank Leumi to your left and a bank of ATM’s to the right, where you will likely run into someone you haven’t seen in years and can’t even really place. Walk up the road, past the gelato shop and the people sitting outside eating, and the musicians and the Americans (so many Americans) and the stores selling schlock- silver Star of Davids and kiddush cups and mezuzahs- equipment for wandering Jews at a discount.
(Avoid this road if you can, because there are better things on the streets that runs parallel to it, a coffee shop and further over, a soup restaurant and a bookstore and another bookstore that is also a coffee shop. Although you didn’t ask about those.)
If you keep going up the hill, King George Street will stretch out on either side- the left will take you to Emek Refaim, Rehavia, where beautiful people drink coffee and read newspapers and lean in close to each other to say things like, “Bibi, he’s terrible,” and “I love you, no matter what.”
If you go right on King George, there’s Mea Shearim, Geula, where you go if you want Yiddish, girls in high collars and thick stockings, the world you might have imagined but never seen.
This is all to answer your question, “Is there an art store in Jerusalem?” There might be, if you go over King George, staying straight, perhaps, and leaning to the right. This is if my memory, after almost three years, is still in the business of serving me well, if I haven’t erased a whole other street or section. If things haven’t moved or disappeared.