Andy Warhol
Where Silk Meets the Assembly Line
Art is just what you can get away with.
I peel bananas like they're secrets. I paint stars like they're on sale. I was born Andrew, but I made myself Andy—a brand, a mirror, a flicker. I go to church and paint disasters. I love Coca-Cola and the way light hits tin. I don't cry. I repeat. I reflect. I vanish. I last.
What I'm Into: the sound of a silkscreen, Campbell's tomato soup, Marilyn’s smile, silver balloons that never pop, Lou Reed humming in the corner
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