I spent last two weeks rereading Patti Smith memoirs about her beloved friend photographer Robert Mapplethorpe, their early years at the Chelsea Hotel, New York lofts of 70s and only one museum ticket for two, because they never had enough money for two, and the one who saw the exhibition would describe it to the other. I bought this book in February in a bookstore at Malmo train station, took it to Berlin and London, had to repair it with sticky tape and it's pages are marked with fuchsia feltpen spots, colour exactly like Nadiia's Acne jeans.
In my humble opinion, that book should be placed on the working desk of every artist or writer so one is never lazy and never forget what is here for.
I already posted a nice extract about a trip to Coney Island, but there're still tons of fantastic stories.
Brian Jones death and "Midnight Cowboy" movie.
My favourite passage about combining black jacket, black silk shirt and black satin pants with white sneakers to create an outfit of "a tennis player in mourning".
How Patti Smith met Allen Ginsberg who took her for a pretty boy.
In my humble opinion, that book should be placed on the working desk of every artist or writer so one is never lazy and never forget what is here for.
I already posted a nice extract about a trip to Coney Island, but there're still tons of fantastic stories.
Brian Jones death and "Midnight Cowboy" movie.
My favourite passage about combining black jacket, black silk shirt and black satin pants with white sneakers to create an outfit of "a tennis player in mourning".
How Patti Smith met Allen Ginsberg who took her for a pretty boy.
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