Rochester, NY
In upstate New York, a five-year-old by the name of Sammy Stringer threw pieces of paper out of his parent's third-story apartment kitchen window, which happened to be street side. Just at that moment, a scowling reporter for the NYTimes was walking by, with a reprimanding eye at the sight of papers being littered as medieval wash buckets. But what he found was not some piece of trash but the workings of a Jean Miró as if transformed by Maurits Cornelius Escher himself. Dazed, he chased down the street picking up what desultory remanants he could of this woefully self-dismissive artist he imagined was a teenage prodigy in distress. He couldn't have been more off.
Knocking on the door, a disgruntled mother paused her loud berating of her five-year old for splintering each and every one of her acrilics and putting them all over all the paper she had just purchased for the home computer. The five year old yelled back, "I'm almost done, mom!" As he squeezed the last acrylic hovering across the page, it set a curving cosmological pattern from all of its puncture wounds he'd made with his mom's favorite fountain pen.
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