I wrote this in an email to myself on December 28, 2013. Why?
Every time someone comes to my apartment, they make fun of this one enormous painting on my wall. It’s two snails climbing a hill, done pretty clearly by a child. I found it next to a pile of trash on a beach in Tel Aviv and sat there for maybe 30 minutes using a butter knife to pry out all the staples connecting it to the wooden frame. Then I rolled it up and brought it home, all so my friends could make fun of it constantly. But something about it really speaks to me.
Edit: Josh Katz points out that I later abandoned this painting back to the trash, on Bergen Street.