I'm looking through strand
The art floor
For the millionth time
There is this subconscious series of events
Things I need to do
Checklists
Productive for the mind body and soul
A list of things that every New Yorker must do
It's such a poignant specific arrangement of things to consequently bring you to the truest self
The coolest you you can be
I'm strolling through aisles
Flicking through glossy pages
The ballad of sexual dependency
A photographical series by nan golden
I take a picture of a picture of Brian, Nan goldens boyfriend, master sting
And the art has been replicated for free
Lifted off of glossy pages and transferred into grainy pixels on my iPhone
I think the reason I'm scared to share my art is not out of judgment
I think I'm scared to share my art because I'm scared to lose my art
Like somehow lifting it out of my head, onto paper, into someone else's possession, into someone else's head somehow makes it less mine
I wonder if I could do this
If somehow I could keep it al in my head and still somehow be recognized for it
Still somehow sell flip books of the same sketch of a dollar sign for 120 pages
Would people buy it?
Someday I'll look back at my youth and remember the hopeful New Yorker with frizzy pink hair studying art in Paris
Will I do something with that?
Will that be a fond memory?
Will that girl become something?
There are books here covered with replicas of paintings I got to stand in front of in real life.
I wonder if Warhol knows they're selling a flip book of his dollar sign and called it
"Making money"
It's $8.95
From Nan Goldin's The Ballad of Sexual Dependency
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