Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Beware the Ides of March

 Not to be dramatic, but it makes so much sense that yesterday was the Ides of March. It was truly a terrible, horrible no good kind of day, the result of which made me realize how physically demanding it is to be an artist. 

Andy Warhol's Silver Factory, East 47th Street in New York City, 1964
Let's just say that I am starting to warm to the idea of the artist factory, complete with its team of assistants to bring my work to fruition.

It does bring up the old question though: Does the Art lie in the concept behind a work, or is in inextricably tied to the process of bringing it into existence?

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