From the archives. I recognize that drop ceiling and wood paneling.... ug..... the apartment with no heat (I had one space heater that I rolled with me from room to room)... there were pipes where radiators were once connected, but the landlord, who lived downstairs with his wife and a herd of enormous, smelly dogs (she was a shut-in-- I never saw her once. But I heard her-- they fought constantly, loudly, and sometimes violently) was too cheap to pay for heat or hot water in the two apartments upstairs. I had a hot water tank in my place that was on the same line as the gas for the stove; but no heat. The other tenant-- a man named Jorge who lived across the hall-- seemed as bummed about the situation as I was, though I suspect he put up with it because he was poor and without papers. I put up with it because I was plain old poor. Giving up heat seemed like a more dealable amenity to lose, due to the wonders of space heaters and dressing in layers, than giving up showering, which had been my other option-- a basement apartment with no shower (the tenant who was moving out used to shower at the local public pool, which was indoors, open all year, and only a few blocks away). This place was in the extreme edge of the hinterland that developers are now trying to rename, ahem, "East Williamsburg." Which means it was really in Bushwick. The rosaries were part of a series of paintings I was doing that year.

Coney Island June, 1995 This was the cheesiest sideshow I've ever seen. There was a cheap mattress, some straw strewn around on the floor and a little space heater. And in the midst of all this sat this woman with wild, unruly hair (probably a wig)...she just sat, hardly even moving. You couldn't even see her face because of all the hair.