He was a Velvet Skeletor. We find him in this piece as an ancient fragment dug out of an archaeological site. Maybe the Shroud of Pittsburgh. It intrigues me that so many young artists are "into it"- the whole sixties thing. They do their thing with some safety in the notion that they were not there, but hey, they can relate.
I do my thing in the safety of the notion that I was there- and could not relate. I was cozy in my world of university studies and part-time jobs. Busy being the good son of Italian immigrant parents. When I got the chance to move to the Big Apple and study at Parsons I jumped at it- NOT. That my mentors, profs and instructors were royally pissed off at me would be an understatement. I want to thank them for leaving me alone.
I loved the time, the vibe, the paranoia, the experimentation, the fashion, the constant feel of an approaching storm, and the notion that it might just last forever. I chose not to get high, but to get high on my art. So this Warhol is not a depiction through rose-coloured glasses, but it is predicated on the feelings that have changed after so many years. The colours are not quite so, and the mood is not quite so.
I'm not coming down any time soon.
VELVETOR, 56x46 mixed media on wood, 2017 by Pietro Adamo
Have a safe, and fun-filled summer.