Naturally, I took the long trek from Bushwick to the Upper East Side on a Tuesday, and, low and behold, they were closed. I smooshed my nose against the glass in agony and took this picture of the big Nintendo-mirroring Amanita muscaria from the outside.
My roommate Robert described this particular display of works best “These remind me of 90′s MTV ads” which makes a whole lot of sense as to why I LOVED this room! Is it weird that I find her use of repetition comforting?
I learned that Miss Kusama has voluntarily lived in a psychiatric institution the past 38 years. She has severe depression, neurosis and OCD; her creative outlets are the only thing that have kept her moving forward in the physical world. I myself can relate…
“Where is the modern art?
I don’t see it.
I see dead artists with dead art while live artists are dying.
Art should be available to own at prices in grocery stores.
Names that sell while a man yells “Don’t touch!”
MoMA is a business and money has no place in Art and Love”
Picked up this notecard set from The Whitney because it was all I could afford. I’m going to hang them on my wall :D