The artist who made a square helmet out of plywood that looked like a 1960s robot head and wore it to basketball courts and tried to join pick-up games while his girlfriend filmed. The artist who secretly lived in her studio, peed in a plastic five-gallon bucket and washed her bras in the bucket. The artist who painted bananas and wheelchairs who was mainly interested in cats as subject matter. The artist who had an aneurysm and didn’t die who taught himself how to draw while he recovered and the swelling receded. The artist who made a full-size replica of herself and brought the doppelganger to Sears to take a family holiday portrait with it. The artist who painted tree stumps who never watched or read anything to avoid being influenced by the culture. The artist who choreographed a human foosball game next to an abandoned warehouse while a chef roasted a pig behind the goal post. The artist who threw a painting in a field who found it a year later and said it was better and it was finished. The artist in me who was buried, and the artist who raised her to light.
Marin Kosut is a professor of sociology, a curator and a MacDowell fellow. Her work appears in Cabinet, Metropolitiques, and Dead Skunk. She lives in Brooklyn, NY.
image: MM Kaufman