With the economy in the toilet, I've been spending far too much time going to the countless galleries in Soho and Chelsea. After each visit I have the strong urge to throw my cameras off a high cliff and get a job in a factory. Why bother? If Richard Prince can rephotograph (yes, rephotograph) old Marlboro ads and sell them as his own, why can't I snap any stupid photo, make it big, and sell it? At least I actually take my own pictures. So, I decided to create my own masterpiece. I'm giving away my secrets for the sake of this post. First, I spent at least 4 minutes stalking the perfect pigeon in Central Park with my point and shoot. I then spent an agonizing 45 seconds in photoshop working tirelessly, perfecting the color and contrast of the image. Now, I'll blow it up to approximately 4x5 feet and scribble some mindless crap on it with a crayon. Voila... art. Give me $4500. A bargain comparatively speaking. The art world is a total crock of shit. See my previous post "Who calls what art."
Avian #54
Avian #63
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