The multi-hyphenate artist does not veil the truth. Max Ruby
Three years ago, early in the pandemic, housebound New Yorkers adopted an odd but endearing behavior. We went to our windows or out on our balconies to cheer the essential workers who were required to keep going out while we stayed in, the folks who staffed the hospitals and markets, who drove the buses and kept the subways running, who labored so that at some level the city could continue to function. We and our neighbors banged on pots and blew whistles and clapped and sang.
Performance artist Karen Finley
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