Some items about walking from
Richard Prince’s website, written under his pseudonym Fulton Ryder.
“A cowboy walks into a bar and says to the
bartender, "Who's the asshole who owns this shit hole?"
A guy walks into an apartment and looks at the
Warhol, the Basquiat, the Hirst, and the Prince... and says, "that's not
interesting".
“There were several times when I would be walking
back to my sublet alone, late at night, after last call, four in the morning,
and I would run into Carl Andre. He was probably doing the same thing. It was
always on West Broadway. No one around. It was amazingly peaceful. The first
couple of run-ins I would stop and say. "Hey Carl... it's me, Richard..."
He'd just stare at me in his bib-overalls and walk on by. He would look right
through me... X-ray vision. The way he would stare was what bothered me the
most. His eyes told me, "I'm fucking Carl Andre and I already know the
time."
I walked up to Richard Prince at
his gallery opening last night and said hello to him, and at that point a
gorgeous young woman walked by and gave him a huge smile. And I said who’s that? And Richard Prince said, “Oh, she just gave me a
handjob in the bathroom.” Maybe he
thought I looked shocked, and maybe I did.
Later he walked up to me and said, “You know, I wasn’t serious. That girl didn’t really give me a handjob in
the bathroom. I wouldn’t want you to
think that.” True story.
