Showing posts with label Andy Warhol. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Andy Warhol. Show all posts

Monday, April 15, 2019

Time Travel With Andy Warhol: Eyes Closed

Took the Time Machine to see Andy Warhol last night...

Andy was working on new pieces and quite introspective. Upon seeing me, he just stood still and waited to speak.

“Which version of you am I getting, Moni? You look... Your eyes look like they’ve seen more. But it’s not love in them.”

“No, it isn’t love.” I shrug and admire his unfinished pieces.

“Moni, it’s because you leave your eyes open and people should fall in love with their eyes closed. Close your eyes!”

“Now?” I posture as I’m taken aback with his demand.

“Why not? Let’s practice. I’ll go first.” Andy announces and proceeds to close his eyes.

“Do you have champagne?” I ask leaving one eye open to scan the room.

Ignoring my query he asks, “Moni, are your eyes closed?”


“Close your eyes.”

Monday, February 4, 2019

Time Travel with Andy Warhol: Burgers

Took the Time Machine to see Andy Warhol last night...

Andy was about to be filmed eating a burger as a part of some film he was excited about.

“Moni, it’s been too long! We are going to eat! Would you like a burger? They’ll bring you one too. I’ll make them.”

After I give a shrug, Andy instructs them to send the runner for a Big Mac because “McDonald’s is the most beautiful, Monica. Where is the McDonald’s? Don’t you think, Moni?” 

“Can’t I just have champagne?” I ask not feeling hungry.

As the director starts to send his runner for the burger, Andy immediately interjects, “No, never mind, I’ll take the Burger King and Moni will have champagne. Cheers!”

Monday, April 23, 2018

Dream Roomspiration: Warhol

The point of art is to be seen... true art needs no introduction and can be visually representative without saying a thing about value. Here’s an artist whose work can transform any dream room...

Dream Roomspiration: Warhol

Would you add a little Warhol pop when you decorate?

Barbie would!


Kisses, m.

Friday, April 13, 2018

Time Travel with Andy Warhol: Contact Sheets

Took the time machine to The Factory to see Andy Warhol...

Andy was looking at contact sheets of himself eating a bowl of Corn Flakes when I arrived.

“Moni, do you like them? Corn Flakes?

Shaking my head, before I could answer Andy interjects.

“Of course you don’t, I like boring things. Well since you’re here, help yourself to a glass of champagne while I work. I have to work. I’ve got a lot of mouths to feed. Someone has to bring home the bacon.” 

As I start to sip the champagne, he asks “How do you feel about bacon?”

Wednesday, June 7, 2017

Time Travel With Andy Warhol: Mad about Portraits


Took the time machine to see Andy Warhol last night:

Andy was a mad man amid a flurry of activity taking photos for his new series with Blondie. 

Helping myself to a cocktail he took notice of my prescence to smile and ask, "Mony, do you take portraits or paint them?"


Before I could answer he started in again taking notice of a blemish on my chin, "When I did my self-portrait, I left all the pimples out because you always should. Pimples are a temporary condition and they don’t have anything to do with what you really look like...

Smiling, I sip & blush. "By all means create portraits Mony but... Always omit the blemishes – they’re not part of the good picture you want.”

Friday, March 25, 2016

Time Travel with Andy Warhol: Falling Together

Late Last night/Early This morning: Took the time machine to the factory to see Andy Warhol. Andy was working with Mylar Balloons and playing a repeating Chopin’s Nocturne 2nd Movement in E flat for background noise.

As I hobbled in still nursing my sore ankle, Andy motions for me to sit down on a box he was bringing for me. 

As I sat down without mentioning my injury, Andy Warhol stops to say to me, “Mony, I never fall apart, because I never fall together. Now how does this look? Too boxy?”

I smile and nod as Andy Warhol he tells me, “I think it all falls together nicely.”

So I say, “I couldn't agree more.”


Monday, February 1, 2016

Time Travel with Andy Warhol: Double Elvis & Double Lives

Last night: Took the Time Machine to see Andy Warhol at The Factory. Andy was entertaining guests & shooting screen tests. 

While I eagerly grabbed a cocktail & a seat in the corner, I listened to Bob Dylan & Andy Warhol discussing Double Elvis With a Gun. 

Andy mused “Can you imagine being shot? It would be as though ending one life and beginning another. To know the difference between watching TV & living life.”

To which Bob replied, “I don't know Andy I'm just trying to make it through the weekend but I’d be happy to take an Elvis.”

Before I left The Factory I knew this was nothing like watching TV.


Thursday, December 31, 2015

Time Travel with Andy Warhol: Epic Blow

Last Night: Epic Blow.

Took the Time Machine to see Andy Warhol at The Factory. 

Andy Warhol decides we need to see Richard Avedon because he is having an epic photo shoot. As we arrive the model is mid action with her hair blown. 

Jump to a few cocktails & hours later: I'm sipping a champagne cocktail and I muse to Andy how fabulous it would be to have all that hair to play with.

Andy then muses very loudly to Richard: When you're done... Would you mind doing us next? Moni and I would love to get blown tonight!


Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Time Travel with Andy Warhol: So What

Last night tonight: Took the time machine. I was going to The Factory. To see Andy Warhol performing a trick at 10pm teaching people to say “So What”

As I arrive early at 9pm I find Andy quite relaxed before the performance where he explained his trick to me…

“Mony, you have to understand that sometimes people let the same problem make them miserable for years when they could just say, ‘So what.’

‘My mother didn’t love me.’ So what.
‘My husband won’t ball me.’ So what.
‘I’m a success but I’m still alone.’ So what.

Honestly Mony, I don’t know how I made it through all the years before I learned how to do that trick. It took a long time for me to learn it, but once you do, you never forget…”


Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Time Travel With Andy Warhol: Make Art

Last Night: Took the time machine to see Andy Warhol at The Factory.

Andy was amid a fabulously grand display while everyone looked on in anticipation.

Pausing to catch a breathe he ponders loudly.

“Where has Ms Monica been lately? In my dreams? No. But here she is drinking my champagne and yawning like the others.”

Quietly he looks up with an expectation of an answer. Before I speak he starts again.

“Could she have fallen madly badly in love? Where are your bruises & broken bones, Mony?

With a smile I shake my head and reply,
“I've been thinking about & trying to make art. And well you know how it is to love people.”

“Mony, you don't try to make art! Have another champagne!”

He waves someone to grab me another drink before continuing.

“Look Mony, don't think about making art, just get it done. Let everyone else decide if it's good or bad, whether they love it or hate it. While they are deciding, make even more art. But for now just enjoy your drink!”

Friday, January 23, 2015

Time Travel with Andy Warhol...

One of my favorite series that I wrote was a fictional take on events with historical figure Andy Warhol. It was inspired by a lack of something to do one evening... but I've digressed and shared too much. I'll let you read about it instead. Here's one of the passages. 

Kisses, m.

May 12, 2013
2:00AM Last Night : Took the time machine to see Andy Warhol at The Factory.
Andy was contemplating mortality while asking me if I’d like another Mimosa. Decidedly I’d grown weary of the conversation and had had two Mimosa’s too many so I replied, “Please Andy darling, no more drinking and talking about dying. I’d rather go shopping. Can we go shopping Andy?”
Being divinely Andy Warhol he placed a skull upon his head and said, Mony, I never think that people die. They just go to department stores! Lets visit them! And I’ll wear a hat.”

Saturday, July 12, 2014


The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries or the way she combs her hair.

~ Audrey Hepburn

“I've never met a person I couldn't call a beauty.”

~ Andy Warhol

Monday, November 11, 2013

Inspiration: 15 minutes and Style Icon Tyler Shields take on Fame

Apparently drugs kill and so does fame...  I always thought FEAR was the worst four letter word drug out there but for the most part I stand corrected...

Fame Kills c/o

"Everyone will be famous for 15 minutes. " Andy Warhol 

When I think of Andy Warhol coining that statement, I don't think he had in mind the unbridled rampant narcissism of society that we deal with now. Everything in moderation. One of my own personal favorite style icons, photographer Tyler Shields, has for the moment it looks, reinvested himself in a series of Photographs that speak volumes without saying much. The latest comes with armed with one of the worst 4-letter words and a statement warning any of those who want to be famous instead of successful. His statement begins like this: 

"The real dirty side of glamour goes a little something like this:  Hollywood is a place that can take the most fragile and wonderful of creatures and turn them into ice cold metal. This is a land where the weak are eaten by the lying, ravenous monsters who prey in the night and suck the blood of the young. Hollywood is not a place. It’s a state of mind.. A mind which is controlled by a weapon of mass destruction. This weapon is the worst four letter word you will ever know: “FAME.” That evil word that destroys the beautiful and innocent. It can take the best part of you from yourself. Fame makes you believe your own hype you believe the lies the vampires tell you about yourself so they can feed off of  you. Fame is a cancer. It is a bacteria. It spreads through you and gets a hold of you. It is a drug that changes your DNA. It eats at you until there is nothing left and then spits you out broken, alone and a shell of the person you used to be." 

Read more here.

Shields statement makes me recall a story I once wrote. It had little to do with fame and more to do with our incessant urge to feed on the demoralization of others. But it feels appropriate. It was a favor to my little sister and I once explained the story and my personal opinion on the matter of FAME. Please take 15 minutes or less of your time to read Mr. Shields statement and if you would still love to read my story feel free to. They have little to do with each other but I'm always reminded of Andy Warhol when I hear about people wanting to be famous. 

I just want to be fabulous... So I am. How about you? Can I ask you: do you want to famous for 15 minutes or successful for the rest of your life? 

Kisses, m.

15 Minutes

The spotlights hum as the stage is redressed and set for another day. The cameras have begun rolling capturing every behind the scene tidbit for later cut-away candid moments during the show. Everyone wants their 15 minutes. Fame. The world is practically split into two factions. There are those who possess the potential, the talent and the drive followed by those who do not, could not and should never. The plain Joes, outnumbering the gifted few, each wanting just a glimpse of star attention and craving a mere moment to shine in the spotlight. Longing for the love that needs not be returned. That selfish love. Despite the desire, most of the poor ordinary fools will never be noticed. Unable to walk out into the warm spotlight or have a voice that will be heard. And in all honesty, that’s the best thing for them. A simple life of anonymity. It is a better fate to be known for nothing than remembered for just anything.

Anyone can get on TV; it’s the reality of circumstances. Anybody who is somebody is on TV. Why be ordinary when you can be somebody? It’s better to be interesting than ordinary. Far more interesting if you’re sleeping with your half sister or cousin. Even better if your live in lover happens to be a man masquerading as a woman having an affair with your half-sister or cousin. The tendency to produce more obscure and deviant oddities is what sends the ratings through the roof. Before there was the invention of reality television, the channels were populated by the self help talk show gurus in the business of creating Real moments populated by Real people. All of which insisted they were in it to help the poor helpless victims sort out these derelictions and deviations. Your problems = Our help for the entertainment of the masses.

“Manny can make it happen!” screams the crowd wrangler as the audience fills into the seats. A recorded answer prompts via the speaker system surrounding the stage as the wrangler continues his voice cues to the audience.Manny can! “Who can?”Manny can! “CAN DO! NOT CAN DON’T!” Manny can! “Ladies and gentlemen Manny Creed…” The host misses his cue for the impromptu rehearsal. Our host, invisible to the audience, is the small man exit stage right screaming into a phone about today’s show. Today’s show isn’t about unwed mothers, disappearing genitalia, or the rapid mobilization of drugs into the streets by the Catholic Church; in fact it wasn’t going to be introduced until the taping went live. Even Manny was going in completely unrehearsed. Producers were longing for an opportunity to liven things up a little and a candid very Real show seemed like an unusual creature to tackle.

Manny Creed, the man behind the mission and possibly the man behind the next somebody’s 15 minutes of fame. The man who has become the pinnacle of the trash talk show wasn’t always the savior of the afternoon and late night television. Manny used to be a traveling salesman and son of a preacher man. By no means was his father a man of the cloth. Manny’s dad was one of the first revolutionaries to tap into evangelism turned profit. Monty Creed, a friend of fair weather blowing into town by town preying on the hopes of the few in trade for any monetary collections. Which from the looks of things, this rotten apple didn’t fall too far from the tree. Day after day the show produces segment after segment about the freak aberrations of human culture while gaining popularity among the masses in trade for profit accumulated by its advertisers. Manny promised hope to the undereducated, unimportant, and unheard minorities of the world.

It’s a funny thing to prey on the souls of the faceless victims. What’s the harm when you never have to face someone again? They get those 15 minutes, while you continue to profit and propel forward away from that moment. The moment when they’ll live forever and you’ll keep going. Not sort of the thing one would want to be remembered for. Yet there’s a million people waiting to air their dirty laundry, tell that hidden secret and confess to living a sham for the sake of celebrity. Not so harmless when you know the people on the other end of the stick willing to hang you out to further extend their moment of fame.

500th episode. Nearly in syndication, The Manny Creed Show is a household name and climbing. The producers want a special show. A show to top the other dogs in the game. Mareska Donnells, empowering women. Antivar James, tackling the tough issues. Hallahan, with his cheesy gimmicks. None of which had ever contemplated a show like this. Today the audience would be wowed and dazzled to the hidden intricacies of Manny’s life. Manny’s was livid. His childhood spoken from the mouth of his father, reuniting with the brother he never had growing up, praises and accolades from his beautiful wife of 12 years among other surprise guests. Producers had spent months in planning to hide the details until it was too late to do anything. Twenty-Five minutes before air a mere assistant places a convenient call that fuels a wave of emotional panic. However the show must go on and Manny finds composure within as he closes the cell phone. Reaching out he trades the phone for a microphone and proceeds out on stage. There would be no way of knowing what would ensue. One thing for sure, Manny knew this better than anyone else, the audience was going to love this.

Proceeding out on stage as the audience cheers the veteran on, the teleprompter cues Manny to deliver his warm remarks and thanks to those participating in the special event. Cameras pan around the room as Manny spins around shaking hands. The stage is set and the guests are already seated. There’s no way of knowing what hell on earth would be like but as he looks at the panel without breaking his fake, Manny understands that this is the day he will be held accountable for actions in this life. The Real. Farthest to the left sits his mistress, now a man, with the twin bastard children he fathered, followed by his wife and her best friend in flagrante as the audience cheers on, a man that could be his older fatter twin seated next to a common whore, and lastly on the far right sits his father Monty Creed, a homosexual preacher who molested thousands during his spiritual journey, now dying of AIDS. Truth. The scariest of realities.

Teleprompters push and prod the host to confront the demons before him.

The infidelity of his wife with her lesbian lover. Both professing love and openly sharing the sham of their 12 years together in marriage. The former Mrs. Creed screaming “I never loved you! You piece of scum! I’m here to make sure the public knows the truth about your lies.” She concludes her say by setting fire to a wedding album.

The affair with a transgendered man that resulted in the birth of twins. A six year union that he carefully hid from the public scrutiny now openly out on display for the masses. “Carefully I’ll choose my words, as I know the public frowns upon gay marriages. But please understand, my Manny isn’t gay. Our love produced these two beautiful children. I can’t change who I am and I’m glad Manny helped me see that.” Despite his loving former partner’s kind words the audience gasps and boos.

The older brother he never knew, sitting before him with a prostitute he married and continues to sell for sex. Funds which in turn help to profit a pornographic bookstore that has been shut down repeatedly for fronting as a brothel. “Yo, I can’t help it if I’m the straight one in the family. A man’s gotta stand up for what he believes. You know what, little bro, I love you, gay or whatever the hell, even if we didn’t grow up together you got my support. And if you ever wanna discount let me know, I can take care of that. The name of the place is the Hook-Up on the corner of Frank and Fitz. The number GL5-5555 for anyone else looking to HOOK UP.” Producers love this shameless self promotion as the switchboard lights up with calls.

Lastly sits the father who molested thousands of children years before contracting AIDS and bilking the everyday man out of millions all in the sake of Christianity. Accusations of BLAME and questions of WHY and HOW COULD YOU escape Manny. His father effortlessly gives an enigmatic response, “Son the Lord is a forgiving man, but at this time in your life he holds you responsible for your loved ones.” Manny looks away in pure disgust as the man of God, with his simple mind, now speaks in riddles.

Teleprompter reads: Time to take a few calls, but Manny isn’t reading it anymore. Manny isn’t saying anything now. Cut away fast. As the she-male and bastard twins look for comfort. Cut back to Manny. As his wife holds the burning wedding album while embracing another woman. Wait for it. His brother with the prostitute wife. Wait. Gay father dying of AIDS. Watch. The man offering hope, promises and bad advice crumbles. Face breaking. There it is. No non-refundable love. The true moment of clarity unraveling within 15 minutes. There it is your life is up on stage and confronting you. Life answers in a scream and then waits for a response. Can you handle it? Manny can’t. Can’t Do It. No he can’t. 

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Style Icon: Andy Warhol - Andy you’re a star

Andy you’re a star.


Yeah it’s a wonderful song by The Killers. And another brilliant man, Andy Warhol, with whom I’ve completely found myself fixated upon in the last few days (about 7 but who‘s counting). Granted, yes I’m an odd bird (an eccentric myself), so my fascination with unique characters never really dissipates , does it? I’ve always loved and admired his work, but it wasn’t really that I was curious to know more about the man. About a week ago during my hiatus from the internet I was privileged to be able to watch a ton of movies. One of which, had happened to be a re-watching of Factory Girl. This portrayal of Andy (Guy Pearce) made me WANT/NEED TO KNOW MORE. And Sienna Miller is quite lovely as Edie, I thought she completely captured her visually. (*Almost so much, I maybe thinking of a new color for this lovely haircut of mine.) This new fixation, I couldn’t have better timed it myself if I tried. See the De Young museum in SF is hosting an exhibition of Andy Warhol and again wonderful timing, cause it started last weekend. Of course, I will be attending as soon as I have a day off. Which shouldn’t be long. Anyway here’s some of Andy’s brilliance…



Chelsea Girls


Diamond Dust Shoes