This auction is for a piece of paper, and your faith in me.
At the age of twelve I was taken from my parent’s home and placed in the custody of the State of New York and sent to Berkshire Industrial Farm for Youth. I lived there for the next three years. Drawing every day was all I had. It’s pretty much all I remember doing. That, and smoking the staff’s cigarette butts and having pubescent crushes on the librarians who taught me to love books.
In it’s seventh year, W+K 12 asked applicants to send them an envelope filled with an 8.5” x 11” sheet of white paper. Instructions stated that the applicants should take this sheet of paper and “do whatever you want to it”. You don’t have to ask me twice to do whatever I want. A clean sheet, a blank canvas, a glowing screen- being able to create from the void has always been there for me. The need pulls me out of sleep and then pours itself across my desk like a spilt glass of ink. Then comes the mess. And even in that, even in the times of black pools of mistakes, that constant remains- the opportunity to make something from nothing. A fresh start, to fuck up all over again and call it art.
Now, tonight, sitting naked on my couch with a piece of paper in my hands, 8 x 11, I still know anything’s possible. Let me show you.