He begged me to create him. Even as I made him, I knew he was wretched in every way possible . . . I don't even remember how I found him . . . heard of him . . .
Adolf Wolfli was a Swiss artist who was mentally ill. He had been abused as a child and was also accused of molesting young girls when he became older. When he was institutionalized for his mental instability, he began to draw and paint . . . and he made these intricate, beautiful works of art . . . He carried around a paper trumpet and wrote elaborate musical compositions that he would play on it. Just wickedly crazy, beautiful . . . and when I learned about him, he beckoned me to paint him from the other side . . .
I tried to show his sickness, his brilliance, his eccentricity, and his saintliness in this multimedia painting. But now that I've made him and had those eyes haunt me for a while, I feel like he belongs somewhere else as a reminder that not everyone is wholly bad . . . That there is good and beauty even in the most despicable . . .
