There will be no next greatest artist in the world. By Timothy A. Ruane
It is not enough to better Picasso.
One must also know how to play the recorder + a record player, hop scotch, blow bag pipes, twitter youtube (sic), be more sexy than Michelangelo, love 12 lovers on Thursdays, MP3, Skype, IM, abstract the Internet, trump John Cage, trump Donald Trump, write better than William Blake, kick extra points for the Washington Redskins, skedaddle, work on Saturdays at the graveyard with a shovel (not a backhoe), run errands like a Capitol page girl, make that 14 lovers on Thursdays, use scissors better than Matisse, comprehend Derrida, feel—no, sense—Thoreau, update your own resume, read Chiang Kai-Shek, take tea with Vincent van Gogh (and Ozu), smile at Renoir, plagiarize your artist’s statement and get away with it …
Then, they will say you too were great, but not great enough, yet.
Assuming you paint with chartreuse.
Then paint pixels.
Then paint megapixels.