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Jean-Michel Basquiat

Madonna, a former lover of Jean-Michel Basquiat tells her story

I am not sure if I met Jean-Michel in an art gallery or a night-club, but in those days you couldn’t tell the difference.

He had the presence of a movie star and I was crazy about him. He carried crumpled wads of money in the pockets of his paint-splattered Armani suits. Money he felt guilty about having. Money he always gave away to less fortunate friends.

I remember Jean-Michel’s tag - Samo- which was accompanied with a little crown and I remember thinking he was a genius. He was. But he wasn’t very comfortable with it.

I remember all the girls were in love with him and one night I looked out of his loft window and saw a girl whose heart he had broken, burning his paintings in a big bonfire. I wanted to stop her and rescue his paintings, but he didn’t seem to mind. He said it was their fate.

I remember him getting up at 3am and sleep-walking to an empty canvas. He stood inches away from it and proceeded to paint the most minuscule figures and what he did was so beautiful and intellectual and I stood watching him with dumbfounded amazement

He was one of the people I was truly envious of. But he didn’t know how good he was and was plagued with insecurities. He used to say he was jealous of me because music is more accessible and it reached more people. He loathed the idea that art was appreciated by an elite group.

When I broke up with him he demanded I give back the paintings he had given me. Not because he didn’t think I deserved them, but because he was obsessed with the idea that I would sell them.

He was so paranoid. of course, I was heart-broken but complied. Now I couldn’t buy one of his paintings if I wanted to.

When I heard that Jean-Michel had died I was not surprised. He was too fragile for this world.

I remember one summer having dinner with Andy Warhol, Keith Haring and Jean-Michel at Mr Chow’s and feeling like the luckiest girl in the world to have known him. To have known all of them. Now they’re all gone.

(Source: New Straits Times - 2 June 1996)

twixnmix

Jean-Michel Basquiat photographed by Lee Jaffe, 1983.

cardinalisinfernum-deactivated2

me getting some Irish dick: oh please don’t stop

him: aye ya loike that do ya? Wud ya loike if ah went harder? Wud ya loike that ya little sloot?

me: uh…. y…yeah….

him: whut was that?

me: uh… aye….

him:

ethniccrying

I actually want to kill myself

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i wish i could get this tattooed on me

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“The next time you think that you don’t love yourself I want you to think about the last time you took a shower. Do you remember the way your hands graced the rest of your skin? The soap that became suddz in your palms, that you washed into your dirty skin washing it clean again. The way you didn’t slap or beat it berate your body, you just took a shower. You just washed the day away. Think about how gently your fingers glide across your skin, making sure the soap is on and back off again. This is you loving yourself. And even if you don’t realize it in the moment, you should know that even loving yourself enough to wash a little pain away counts for something.”

-courage-ous

aplaceofhisown-deactivated20180

Being a millennial is getting buyer’s remorse over a $3.83 pack of oreos.

qxessence

This is genuinely hilarious but fuckin terrible

mojav

im sapiophobic. if youre intelligent i will beat you to death

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You’re*

mojav

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diariesofamisanthrope

Needed

stability

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hypnotic-flow

LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOO

blkbullsw

😂

skyakafreckles

These be the best mozzarella sticks though

reallyreallyreallytrying

grandad built this house with his bare hands, kids. most people use bricks but not grandad. he thought hands were bricks.

loveafffair

“People meet her and don’t know what to do with themselves but, she doesn’t know how fucking cool she is. Or what she means to the rest of the world.” Zoë Kravitz about her mother, Lisa Bonet. Zoë and Lisa are both featured in new Calvin Klein’s campaign, Life in the now.