Ah, Ray Johnson was the first artist I run into in New York when I first got there. He was part of the John Cage/ Merce Cunningham group. And, uh, I was, I was thinking about all the things that went on when I got there in the '60s – and how in New York the U.N. hosted Fidel Castro in Harlem, and, um, all these stories about how he used to cook his chicken on a parafin stove in his room at the Theresa Hotel...
Um, Ray was a young eccentric, who used the postal service as his canvas. He used to send crazy bits of cuttings, drawings, and envelopes full of bric-à-brac to people. And, he'd never call ya. And you couldn't call him. Very shy guy. And, um, that was it
And, uh, everybody was worried cos the Russians were coming. Which they didn't
Um, Ray was a young eccentric, who used the postal service as his canvas. He used to send crazy bits of cuttings, drawings, and envelopes full of bric-à-brac to people. And, he'd never call ya. And you couldn't call him. Very shy guy. And, um, that was it
And, uh, everybody was worried cos the Russians were coming. Which they didn't
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