I was instantly fascinated when I saw the headline yesterday: "Italians say they may have found Caravaggio bones”. After centuries of mystery, the lost painter may have been located. Researchers in the Italian coastal town of Porto Ercole have studied the remains of a man who was approximately Caravaggio’s age, who died around the same time as Caravaggio, and who had frequent contact with the lead and other metals that were commonly used in 17th century paint. The researchers have begun DNA testing to determine if the bones can be linked genetically to current residents of the town of Caravaggio who are likely relatives of the Baroque portrait painting artist. Within two weeks, we should know if the bones could be those of the painter.

The possibility of making a pilgrimage to visit the remains of the man who was a master of religious paintings, oil painting self portrait painting, and still life oil painted pictures grabbed me immediately. And then, just as quickly, a question hit me: so what?

As you may have heard, Andy Warhol’s painting “200 One Dollar Bills” sold for $43.8 million at a Sotheby’s auction this week. One of the artist’s first silk-screen paintings, the image went for over three times the amount originally anticipated by the auction house. Those in the art market are hesitantly optimistic: the sale may indicate that the economy’s affect on art sales is on the upswing. Go figure -- a painting of money is the one that has art dealers feeling better about their own bank accounts.

Naturally, pictures of the piece have been featured in most news stories about the sale, and I’ve got to be honest -- I really don’t like it very much. To be really honest, I don’t love most of Warhol’s work. I respect him and I understand why his work is good; I appreciate his  exploration of the glorification of mass consumerism and celebrity. But I just don’t like it. I have never had a desire to visit a Warhol exhibition and I’ve definitely never thought about buying a print of one of his pieces.