"this gallery is basically a vagina with a dj. it's so warm & moist in here" - text i sent to a friend last night
last night i went to the opening of mr. bill murray, an exhibit of, yeah, bill murray-themed art. it was insanely packed - i couldn't see about half of the art because people seemed to think it would be a good idea to situate their groups right in front of the wall like some sort of defensive line. someone grabbed my ass and i saw a guy in a ghostbusters costume wolf down a taco which was really weird to me for some reason. i saw as much art as i could, downed my two drinks, and got the fuck out of there to smoke a cigarette on the sidewalk, talk to a bunch of dudes in matching motorcycle jackets, and semi-drunkenly make my way back across downtown.
tonight i'm going to dirk skreber's opening at blum & poe (my favorite gallery in los angeles) and thennn somehow making my way halfway across the city to go to the "please remember everything" opening at actual size. or maybe i won't. somehow i'd forgotten how exhausting art openings are - i always feel as though something has been taken away from me. i've also noticed that i end up saying either "fuck art" or "fuck people" at least once. whatever IT'S COMPLICATED
FUCK ART AND PEOPLE -henry
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