went to the currier opening tonite. saw some epic warhols. it really is a whole different expierience when u see "famous" art work in person. i left the gallery feeling sad about the death of atomic optimism that came about as a result of the assasination of JFK. the fukkers won. way bakk then. so then what the fukks the point of anything now? i dunno. im just glad there was a velvet underground tribute band that didnt sukk. and i looked at almost contemporary art with my father and we would have gotten to talk about it too if my mother hadnt worn "difficult" shoes.
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