Drifting and striding, in Hollywood and elsewhere, with Geoff Nicholson - author of The Lost Art of Walking, and Walking in Ruins withcholson, author of Toff Nidrifting and stomping withcholson, author of The Lost Art of Walking, considers the narrower and wider shores of obsessive pedestrianism.
Showing posts with label Fulton Ryder. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fulton Ryder. Show all posts

Friday, February 22, 2013


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.