An anti-biography of Marcel Duchamp’s mysterious 3-month stay in Munich, of which almost nothing is known. Dargaud, 2020.
accompanying visual essay
"petit miracle" —Kiblind Magazine
pencil and ink on paper
Drawing people is infuriatingly hard for me--I need to have a detatchment both from reality, and from my visual vocabularly--it’s this rare moment when the line precedes your deliberations, and makes all previous attempts look aimless and irrelevant.
ink on paper
I made very little during the lockdown, and most of it what I made isn’t very good. As misanthropic as I may be, it turned out that being left alone with my own self is even more depressing and uninspiring than being around people. You need to be annoyed with others so you can tolerate the idiot at home.
words, submission form
Throughout the COVID-19 pandemic, I submitted dozens of literal captions to the New Yorker caption contest. What started as a private joke turned into an OuLiPian writing exercise, as I decided early on to fit my captions precisely into the 250 character limit. I had no intentions of making a conceptual statement with this project, but writing these descriptions was oddly therapeutic, especially the final act of copy-pasting each one into a text file, with no accompanying image. None of these made it to print.