I was really young when I came to really start to appreciate art. I responded visually to things early on. It was at around the age of 14 obsessed with Andy Warhol and the whole Factory clique. It was the summer of 1982 when I ame across the book EDIE: An American Biography. This was when I was seduced into the world of art, sex drugs rock and roll. They all looked so fucking cool, the parties, the lifestyle seemed like a total unreal fantasy. They seemed to be people I could relate to, misfits doing their own thing. It was all there the music, the art it had every element that I wanted and was drawn to Dark sexy and really fucked up. It was only years later that I realized it wasn't as galmourous as I perceived it Still this is my lead into art and the cultivation that learning that music was an integral part to the visual. To a 14 year old kid from Orange County it seem all so very alluring. It was also the moment when I thought Orange County Sucked , the world was beckoning me to discover the places that I dreamed about. I wanted to be part of the action, i wanted to encountr what they did even if I knew it was fucked and oh so wrong. I would figure out my lesson when I made the mistake. Next stop,Hollywood!
Reading about Warhol bordered on hero worship, but my own ego wouldn't alow it to go to that level. The movement the spawned my interest in the Beat Generation writers it all had an effect on how I dressed and what I listened to. Warhol encompassed everything and the logic was intoxicating still I have a deep profound respect for ANdy Warhol and my parnter is mystified by my general knowledge of him. With the whole Warhol clique I learned that you could start a revolution of your own if you had a vision. Make my own rules and really find a path to create something that was all our own. For that I am thankful. If you don;t like it EAT ME!
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