Thought Not

The Warhol Diaries

I just started reading the Warhol Diaries again.

Amazing. It's an oral history as told by Andy Warhol to Pat Hacket -- someone who worked at the Factory in the 70's. I've really just cracked the first few pages. I have a feeling many entries will be devoted to my re-reading of it. The book opens with an introduction by Hacket explaining the workings of the Factory. It describes Jed Johnson and his brother Jay who turned up at the Factory in the late 60's. The Johnson twins. Two young Warhol superstars. Jed started editing films with Warhol and became his partner.

Jed began buying antiques, and ended up starting a design firm that is world renowned.

I was about 21 when I met Jed and his partner Alan. Not much older than Jed and Jay had been when they came to the city. I really had no idea where I was going but ended up in the most beautiful apartment I had ever seen. It was an intimate Christmas party that my friend Mark brought me to, and one where I was certainly a guest of a guest. I was a precocious fuck, but there I was. The apartment had a double height living room and a Tiffany mantle. The entire place was filled with some of the finest examples of Arts and Crafts furniture -- which at that point I was developing a taste for. Lamps by Dirk van Erp, Gustav Stickley furniture, amazing ceramics. Each piece the finest example of it's kind.

Above the mantle was a huge Double Elvis. In the sitting room was a small Warhol of a Studio 54 VIP card. Jed was gracious but never really took a shine to me, although I would see him socially for a few years after.

Jed was killed in the TWA flight 800 explosion in 1996. A few months later, in February of 1997 I ended up on a river rafting trip with his partner Alan in Chile and Alan and I got a chance to talk. One night he and I shared a campsite that was formed by three boulders -- each massive -- overlooking the river. We stayed up late and talked. A kind and charming architect with an amazing eye. It must have been such a terrible time for him. His brother had also been killed in a plane crash. There were many times I had no idea what to say -- just trying to conceive of this kind of loss.

Alan has remained a friend, as has Jed's brother Jay, although I haven't seen Jay in a while.

I must say I find it an amazing history -- one I got to catch a glimpse of in the few short years I knew Jed. At the same time it began my journey into the contemporary art world. I feel privileged to have met Jed when I did. For some reason it all came flooding back to me last night as I picked up the Diaries.

At one point too, Jed had been a young kid in New York and by the time I met him he was at the top of his game. The things he must have seen! I was, and still am in awe of him. To re-read some of the history of his life brought me back to that December night in his living room, and my glimpse into his world. I hope I never forget that feeling.

Happy/Gross Post

It's beautiful -- spring is here -- the paper says it's gonna be 69 and sunny today. In one month and 4 days  I open my apartment in Provincetown. In this weather -- unlike winter -- taking the dogs out is a lot of fun. No howling winds, no bitter cold -- not a chore -- more a joy. Truman and I spent about 2 hours at the 23rd Street dog run on Sunday. I got some sun on my face and watched the little devil run around.

Sunday I had another open house at the apartment -- a complicated maneuver that involves taking the dogs to Juan's, coming home and cleaning for an hour, leaving and knowing for two hours people get to rifle through your closets without you there. It is strangely violating.

3 o'clock the phone rang and a friend called and asked me to take him to the ER. He had what at first he though was a pimple, then kept growing and growing. By Sunday it looked like he was birthing an alien child out of his neck.

I took him to St. Vincents and we only had to wait a few minutes before they took us in. I guess they realized if his was birthing an alien baby out of his neck he needed to be seen right away. Anyway -- to make a long story short -- it was an abscess on his neck. The surgeon came in and I held his hand. They covered him in one of those surgical covers that leaves only the area to be operated on exposed. So in other words -- he couldn't see anything -- but I got an up close and personal view.

I was trying to be a supportive friend and tell him it was no big deal -- and actually I did fine until the end. The surgeon -- clearly excited about his talent -- kept telling me to look at his latest cut/incision and the subsequent results -- I'll spare you the rest of the details. Silly me -- I looked. It was only at the end when he took a piece of cloth and put it in the incision -- calling it a wick -- that I decided I needed to throw up immediately.

It ended up fine. He's home and recuperation and no alien babies came out which was a surprise. St. Vincents was remarkably efficient and the staff was kind. It makes up for what I had to watch. Some things you can never unsee.

Yesterday we had a NADA event to say goodbye to the old Board of Directors and Founders and welcome the new board. I feel sorta sappy -- but I get really excited about NADA. 3 1/2 years ago 20 of us went out to lunch and started a little networking group of young professionals (I use that term loosely) in the arts.

It's grown to have 120 members and we run a great Art Fair in Miami. NADA has helped me a lot -- both personally and professionally. Some of those people have become great friends and I would say almost all of them have been helpful to me and the gallery over the last 3 1/2 years. So -- thanks guys.

Yea -- it's a Utopian idea -- but strangely we've managed to make it work well for the most part. It's banded us together in a way that otherwise would have been difficult. I'm pretty proud to be a part of it.

 

Sign Me Up

Hat Tip: PAYOR

There Is A God

And his name is Dana White.

ULTIMATE FIGHTER 3 BABY! Phil and I are watching now. Fucking amazing. I'm a little annoyed at the whole Shamrock/Ortiz beef (Ortiz is a chump) but this looks to be about the greatest television show ever.

The Brits are a nice addition.

This is no Project Runway. These guys are in for blood. It's on!

You can check out the fighters here.

Ross and Ed are my favorites so far.

If anyone from the UFC reads this -- I beg and plead with you to let me come out for the finals as press. I went to UFC 56 and got to meet Rich Franklin at breakfast thanks to Superman Sid. WOO-HOO!

Things are looking up in the world.

I promised.....

not to whine anymore when I'm sick. So therefor this ends today's post.

Check out Boozhy though, where Scott from Bill in Exile is now Juan's writing partner. This is a far better ratings boost than Juan's poorly thought out and executed Free Porn Wednesdays.

More later. In cough syrup haze.

Home Sick

Richard won the brokeback DVD.

More when I feel better.