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Waxy figures.

Happy Halloween

From The Wild One, a New York article on Steven Parrino:

The nagging question, though, is whether this show would have happened without all the buzz created by the artist's untimely and dramatic death in a late-night motorcycle accident. Which is to say that this show - pure-intentioned as it may be - also feels like an uncommonly brazen push to elevate not only Parrino's standing but also, of course, his prices. If you headed upstairs from his survey to Gagosian's gorgeous skylit sixth-floor showroom last week, a nice wedge-shaped Parrino was contextualized with megasellers like Warhol, Richter, Damien Hirst, Rudolf Stingel, and the 37-year-old Anselm Reyle, whose paintings now fetch more than $300,000 and who recently left the Gavin Brown gallery for Gagosian. Parrino's dealer at the time of his death was Jose Freire, the estimable owner of Team Gallery, who has guided a number of artists to prominence. Freire told me, "I loved Steven's work. He embodied many of my ideas about art. But in eight years and five solo shows I sold two paintings; one for $9,000, the other for $10,000." At Gagosian, Parrino's work goes for upwards of $1 million. (Parrino's family hooked up with the gallery for this exhibition.) When I asked Freire whether Gagosian or the estate was giving him any commission from these sales, he just laughed.

I have so much to say about this that I can't say anything at all. Or maybe I already said it all already.

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On Friday I went to Cat and Captain Carl's house where we consumed cheese and vino and pasta, three of my favorite things. Then we watched Knocked Up, which is even less funny than the last time I saw it. It's just a goddamn chick flick I tell you. Nothing wrong with that, but it's just not that funny. Superbad is so much better, I swear.

Saturday I took a gigantic piece of handmade paper that Aimee sent me and outlined my entire book on it. I'm going to talk more about this tomorrow because I think it's an interesting part of the process, and it warrants its own entry.

Saturday night I went out with Mark and Kerri to a couple of parties. Oh, the drinkies. I laughed a lot, and I danced so much my legs hurt the next day. Along with my head.

Hey, dollface/genius Janice Erlbaum is reading tonight for a whole hour at the New York Public Library. Starts at 6:30, I believe. I am going to try my darndest to make it, and so should you.

More tomorrow on outlining, page count, and flow. I'm in the thick of it now, so back to work.

(10/29/07)