I posted this photo back in May more as a joke and less as an "omen" about the market, but sometimes forecasting accidents will happen. To be honest, I don't think it's going to be as bad as some are predicting, I think it's the high end of the market that'll get hit which will make it an issue for the really rich so I don't care so much. Oooooh . . . John Currin's great-grandchildren might have to get a job. Whoop-dee-doo. I don't usually write about stuff like this here, and now I remember why: I'm at the end of the first paragraph and I'm already bored out of my bloody mind. Plus, I don't know what I'm talking about.
Fuck it. Thursday night is on its way. Go forth. Drink beer. See art. Get your hands dirty. Push.
4 comments:
Beeeeer, arrrrt, burp. Has Summer really past?
Yeah, MB. Let's face it. Tonight is NOT about the art, at least primarily. It's about the buzz around it. It's about people. It's about the beer. Returning to Chelsea on Saturday will be about the art.
Forgot the art. Went with KR and Aaron to 4th Ave Pub. Cute garden.
New Shellac album art is beautiful (if that counts).
Everything counts in small amounts.
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