I Bought Andy Warhol

Andy Warhol. Self portrait. 1966.

I read about Andy Warhol’s diaries in an article by Louis Menand in the New Yorker a few months back, but it wasn’t until I was browsing at the Strand today that I ran across the book. It’s strikingly candid and voyeuristic, and for some reason I just can’t put it down.

As an aside, I find that I’m drawn to artists’ writings more than their actual work these days. I’m not sure if it’s a subconscious reaction to the (supposedly) jittery art market or if I’m just in a more literary than visual phase. Whatever the case, Donald Judd’s writings are next on my list.