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Andy Warhol

Somehow it was suddenly the last day of the big show at the Whitney. Good thing I'm a member & swept right in. Maybe it was because I'd been at the dojo before 7 a.m. to watch the final fighting of the new black belts & was sleepy, but I kept feeling I couldn't enjoy the work without being told what was good or important about it. On its own, it didn't engage me, & the explanations didn't do much for me either.


Almost the only painting I really liked was Camouflage Last Supper (1986). It seemed to have more than technique & an idea. I was captivated by knowing that he was a lifelong practicing Byzantine Catholic. In the midst of all the chaos of the Factory & the 60s, he (secretly) centered his religion. I think of a friend of mine, now long dead, who said the shema every night of her life. That means she never got too high or too drunk to attend to prayer. It made me have sympathy for Warhol in a way I never had. 


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