And I cannot stress this enough: bury their bones in an unmarked ditch.
Those are original Warhol boxes. Two Brillos, a Motts and a Campbells tomato soup. Multiple millions worth of original art, set on the floor by the front door.
Theres a regular customer whom i do plumbing work for, for the last 3 or 4 years. These belong to her. She also has Cherub Riding a Stag, and a couple other Warhols that i cannot identify, along with other originals by other artists that i also cannot identify. I have to go back to her house this coming Monday, i might get photos of the rest of her art, just so i can figure out what it is.
Even though i dont have an artistic bone in my entire body, i can appreciate art. I have negative feelings on private art like this that im too dumb to elucidate on.
eat the fucking rich. they are good for nothing.
Fair point. Again though, the rich have always treated art, even ‘fine art’ in a haphazard, commodified way just like a soup label. I personally always saw the Warhol stills as a commentary on how the establishment treats fine art, and this would just be the natural conclusion of that life cycle, a perfect prediction on his part. Basically, it answers the question ‘How do you get a rich person to buy a Campbell’s soup label?’. Which fits in with most of Warhol’s message which is ‘Well really it’s just because I’m smarter and understand this whole art thing that’s going on better than you.’
Perhaps I am ascribing too much intentionality to Warhol, but given how generally aware he was of the scene he was in and what ended up to other famous artists works, I don’t think I’m off the mark.