My earliest memory of the Cincinnati Art Museum is as a little boy. Perhaps I was in grade school. My parents had signed me up for an art class. I remember drawing pictures of (perhaps) Egyptian sculpture. I recall the coolness of the marble floor.

Fast forward to my time at the Art Academy, which was in a building connected to the museum at that time. We had access to the museum’s library. I spent a lot of time there reading books and looking at images of contemporary artists working in NYC.

I also recall the theatre – a place with a stage and lots of seats where the Art Academy held their graduation ceremonies. Over the years, I’d often imagined myself on that stage, presenting my ideas to a respectful and open-minded audience.

So much thought went into the planning of exactly how I wanted that presentation to unfold. It would have been quite an event.

If I did it now, it would probably be very different, as I no longer have the passion of youth.

I mourn what never was.

********

I had never personally known anyone connected to the museum.

I never thought it my business to do so. I’m not a political person. I’m an artist.

Still, once I started doing postal art projects in Cincinnati, I’d always include the director of the museum on my mailing list. I never expected much of anything in return. It just seemed like the respectful thing to do – the museum holding this Grandfather position in my heart and mind.

And then one year (I forget the specifics – though I still have the project) I sent Timothy Rub, who was the director of the museum at the time, a project that was sent exclusively to him. (I could be wrong about this. Maybe I also sent a copy to the Contemporary Art Museum and the Art Academy. I know I sent Howard Wells a copy – but I recall that as being more of an insider copy.)

The project was all about my history and what I envisioned for Cincinnati.

Then one day, shortly after New Years (I forget the year), I got a postal letter from Timothy saying that it was his New Year’s resolution to get in touch with me, after having received so much provocative stuff from me over the years.

(I hope I’m not putting words in his mouth here, as this was all many years ago. Just this is how I remember his letter.)

He said he was very interested and wanted to hear more.

This was kind of an unprecedented response from an “important” art establishment person in Cincinnati, or anywhere else for that matter.

I then started firing off a slew of provocative cartoons / mailings to him. Probably too much (“Too Much” being the title of one of my cartoons about me, because that’s the way I often am.)

For better or worse, I always be me.

Anyway, two or three months later, I found out through the grape vine that Timothy was leaving the museum for some other position elsewhere.

So I called Timothy on the phone on the last day before he was to leave.

To his everlasting credit in my mind, he took my call. He didn’t have to. I’m sure he was extremely busy on that day. He talked to me for a relatively long time.

He assured me that this offer of a new position, and his decision to leave CAM, came well after his writing his letter to me – but I didn’t believe that for a second. No one makes those kinds of career decisions on such short notice.

I think he was just being political and covering his butt, should I turn out to actually become an historical somebody.

The fact that he thought of me as having that kind of potential (I mean, he did write to me, and take my call) was a major plus in my mind. Cincinnati is a very small place. People talk. Was I being talked about in those kinds of circles?

Maybe it wasn’t an official public endorsement, but for us artist types living on the edge, this kind of backhanded compliment is often as good as it gets. It’s the fuel that keeps the machine running.

He told me that he would arrange for my stuff to be available to be picked up, as I had told him that I planned to be in Cincinnati in the near future.

Kill me.

Really.

Kill me, as maybe I am just being over-the-top egocentric here, but I expected to go to some office somewhere in the museum and have an appreciative, respectful official of some capacity turn over my material with a kind (if merely token) “Thanks” as I had made a hell of a lot of effort, and I’m an artist from Cincinnati, graduate of the Art Academy, with major art history in NYC - and this is an ART Museum after all – and I don’t think THAT Art Museum gets THAT kind of effort / proposal from a Cincinnati artist every day, decade or even century.

My material was waiting for me in a package just inside the front door of the museum at the reception desk.

Timothy had returned everything, every single thing that I had ever sent him, even the material that was clearly sent to him as a personal gift or letter.

I’ll always remember walking back to my car with that package in my arms.

********

It wasn’t long after that, that the museum hired Aaron Betsky to replace Timothy. I got the news from a friend over the phone.

“Not only is he gay, but he’s married!  Can you believe it?  In Cincinnati?”

It was indeed quite shocking, as Cincinnati is a very conservative town. I assumed that the gay lobby had become rich and powerful, and that the museum was facing difficult economic times (not to discount Aaron’s obvious worth and credentials).

I saw it as being an extremely positive and hopeful development. Maybe the winds of change were finally blowing through the city at last.

So I Googled Aaron. I was surprised that I came up with an email address – another hopeful sign. The guy is accessible!

So I wrote to him, welcoming him to Cincinnati.

He wrote back, saying he was delighted to be welcomed before even arriving. We had one or two further friendly exchanges.

I then did something that was very controversial.

Renee, to this day, gets upset with me, just talking about it.

I, on the other hand, have often thought of it as being the singular, most effective and brilliant move that I have ever made as an artist.

I sent Aaron a final email, and the subject line was: “Fag Nigger.”

The body of the email simply stated that not long ago, not long ago at all, it was perfectly acceptable in educated, successful and sophisticated circles of society, to exclude blacks and gays. Were they ridiculed in such circles? Probably. But far more damaging still was that they were simply ignored. To ridicule them is to at least acknowledge their existence.

I told Aaron that this is what it is like today, to be an artist in Cincinnati. The powers that be don’t tolerate “different.” They don’t openly criticize you, as that would create the opportunity to respond. They just ignore you. It’s like you don’t even exist.

Do you think Aaron opened the email?

How could he not, he being a gay man moving into that kind of position in what he had to know was a very conservative city. “What the fuck am I getting into?”

Do you think I made an impression?

Is he going to remember Tim Folzenlogen?

For all my life, whenever I’m making edgy, controversial moves in the public realm, I’ll get this certain quality of dream that will give me insight as to how my initiative is playing out.

The night after sending that email, I had a dream that was like Michael Jackson on crack. It was WILD.

Aaron didn’t respond, and I completely disappeared from Cincinnati for the next three or four years.

I figured he was busy and needed the time to settle in.  

********

The next time I showed up in Cincinnati was as a participant in a show at the Woman’s Art Club Cultural Center curated by my good and oldest friend Tim Boone. I couldn’t attend the show, but I recall that he chose representational work of mine – paintings, maybe a pastel and / or a charcoal or two.

To coincide with the show, I sent out a public writing addressed to Aaron. It was maybe a few pages long, and covered all the same material that most all of my other Cincinnati shows and projects had covered in the past. It was mostly about me: my thought, my history of effort, and my vision for Cincinnati and how I think it could be easily achieved. 

It also stated that, though I have been saying and doing this stuff forever in Cincinnati, the Cincinnati art establishment never really responds. They never show up at any of my openings or publicly respond to my projects. I never get invited to speak or participate in any kind of prestigious event.

I understand why this is.

Relatively speaking, the art world in Cincinnati is very small. It’s like a pie and all the existing structures already own their slice. In order to be embraced by any of them, one has to fit oneself into the concepts and beliefs of whoever controls that particular slice (become like them) which by definition excludes the possibility of anything or anyone bigger and better.

I’d think that by anyone’s estimation, what Cincinnati currently has going on in the visual arts is not all that great. I mean, are there any Cincinnati artists able to make a living doing art? People are supposed to pay thirty grand a year to attend the Art Academy so they can have a hobby?

I think the problem is the slice mentality. If we all joined the same team, we could open an entire bakery. My vision was to put Cincinnati on the national and world map by doing something visionary – something completely different – like how Nirvana and grunge music put Seattle on the musical map by doing something different.

The problem was never me or my ideas. We never got that far.  Despite all my best efforts, I have yet to have a single serious conversation with the powers that be in Cincinnati.

The problem was that everyone always viewed me “right up front” as being a threat (as they would anyone who was strong, confident and different - due to their fortress mentality). No one ever bothered to dig deeper. They didn’t want to. They were afraid to.

Which was why I addressed my public letter to Aaron Betsky. Aaron was an outsider - a worldly, international figure on the contemporary art scene. I thought that if the reader viewed my thought through Aaron’s eyes, they might see it for what it is – a world of greater possibilities.

I also sent Aaron a copy of my cartoon entitled “Monument Proposal For Cincinnati.” I sent it for two reasons:

1. I didn’t want to be pigeonholed as being a “representational artist” (my work that was exhibited at the Woman’s Art Club) as straightforward representational art is no longer seen as being contemporary. Truth is, my artistic expression is and has always been multifaceted. I wanted to create space in Aaron’s mind as to who I am and what I’m about.

2. I had read where Aaron is interested in architecture as an expression of human sexuality. My Monument Proposal for Cincinnati (The Tim Folzenlogen Monument) is of a giant erect penis and testicles. (I’m the big dick. Everyone is afraid to talk to me.) It’s mostly a satirical cartoon (though it contains a lot of truth) and it pokes fun at me, as well as a lot of other people in Cincinnati, in the hope that everyone will lighten up and laugh a little.

Aaron did not respond to my writing or cartoon, and I have no idea if he went to the Woman’s Art Club show.

********

Fast forward to mid to late 2011.

By this time I was sitting on at least 50 complete books of cartoons and had no idea what to do with them. They simply do not fit into any existing niche in the publishing realm. Most are sexually explicit, and all are deeply philosophical and visionary.

What to do?

My thoughts returned to Cincinnati. I’ve invested so much there over the years, and continue to believe that it is destined to become the visionary art capital of the world.

My confidence and life’s effort could not be for nothing. Could it?

So I started thinking about sending numerous hard copies of my cartoons to various people in Cincinnati, with the idea being that they could exchange them and share them with friends, as a way of casting a wider net. Maybe someone out there who I don’t even know will have the inspiration and knowhow to do the right thing with the material.

For all my life, this is how some of my biggest breakthroughs have often come about. I bust my ass trying to make stuff happen, but nothing much does - and then the phone rings and it’s somebody completely out of the blue, and that someone changes everything.

Still, I know that if I do this, it’s going to be a huge undertaking. I know it’s going to stir things up, and there is always a personal price to pay. I just didn’t know if I had the energy and fortitude to do it. This “living life on the edge as an artist” role is mostly a young person’s game.

Then I found out that both Howard Wells and his wife had cancer.

Howard is one of my nearest and dearest friends and is the one person who I most consider to be the heart and soul of art in Cincinnati.

They have a daughter the same age as my and Renee’s daughters. I’ve met her. She reminds me of Melissa.

I decided to go forward with the project and to make it, in part, a fundraiser for Howard’s family. I called Howard and got his permission.

The number of books of cartoons to be involved in this project has changed a couple of times due to unforeseen circumstance. Ultimately, fifteen books (will be – as I write this – as the last three have yet to be sent) were sent hardcopy to Cincinnati. Three others will be posted on my website  (timfolzenlogen.com).

The project is entitled “The Everybody Project.”

The first cartoon sent was entitled “The Everybody Project,” and nine copies of it were sent to Cincinnati. Each edition was signed and numbered. The people receiving them and the order in which they were numbered is: Aaron Betsky, Howard Wells, Tim Boone, My Mom, Bro. Charlie Wanda, Stewart Goldman, Margaret Klein, Carl Solway and Tom Weast.

This cartoon is an introduction to the project and explained how I intended for it to unfold.

The three cartoons that will eventually appear on my website are entitled: “It’s Like This,” “It’s Like This (Book Two)” and “The Whole Of Me.” The first two are already on my site as I write this. The last will appear as the final phase of the project.

I had over 400 outtakes and preliminary drawings from these three cartoons. I stamped them all with the initials ILT, and then numbered and signed them. I then divided them up into 40 packets, making all of the packets as equal as possible, judging by quality of the page.

Each packet has an original drawing on the cover of the envelope, and each cover is stamped with a larger ILT and signed and numbered. The first ten were sent as gifts to the same people in the same numbered order mentioned above. Tim got two for a logical reason, but that’s not worth explaining here.

The other thirty packets were sent in a box to Howard Wells.

The final page of “The Everybody Project” introduction, explained the fundraising aspect of the project. It stated that the packets were for sale for $300 each, with all of the money going to Howard.

I mentioned earlier in this writing that over the course of my career, I often have these dreams which give me insight as to how my projects are playing out in the public realm. My experience is that these dreams are 100% reliable (though the time element varies. It’s more like the dream is saying: “The foundation for this to happen is now in place, and it will happen.”)

I’ve been having dreams.

I called Howard just the other day and left a message on his machine. I told him that I had no idea if he had sold even one packet thus far, but that so far the only advertisement that had gone out was to the initial nine people (and they all got their own free packet).

When the final cartoon of this project is posted on my website, the final page will contain the same - only at that time we will be talking to a potentially much larger audience as I have tons of foundation already in place, all over the place. 

********

The hardcopy books of additional cartoons (each one different) were sent in black binders with plastic sleeves. They were to be divided up and sent one at a time to Aaron Betsky, Howard Wells and Tim Boone.

Those cartoons are all Xerox copies of the originals (which I keep), but I went back into each page with markers and / or white and sometimes color pencil – and so each page is in fact an original drawing.

Honestly speaking, I usually liked the result better than the original drawings.

The length of time between cartoons sent was solely determined by how long it took me to redraw the books. It was usually a month or three. Everyone was encouraged to show, or even lend the cartoons to others who they knew and trusted. The only conditions were that they were not to be lent to anyone who did not respect art and artists, and that there was to be zero reproduction of any kind, most certainly not scans or digital photography, as I want to control how my images show up on the internet. I also requested that they not be shown to anyone who might be offended by sexual content, as nearly all contain sexually explicit images. I have no desire to offend anyone.

So I was rolling right along with the project.

I was feeling really good about it.

I had already sent four books to both Tim and Howard, five to Aaron (if we include Monument Proposal - which had been sent years before).

Then one day (it was my birthday, May 2nd) I came home from work and there, sitting on our dining room table, is one of my boxes. My heart went bumpity-bump. It was a cartoon that I had sent to Aaron. It was marked on the outside of the box: “Refused – Return to Sender”.

It totally freaked me out.

I just couldn’t imagine why he would do that. It was only a cartoon. The guy couldn’t so much as read my cartoon? I just couldn’t understand it. I mean, I had reread each and every one of those cartoons probably a hundred times before sending, always thinking that they would be appreciated and enjoyed. I thought they were beautiful creative things.

Is Aaron being inundated with projects by other artists and their projects and so doesn’t have the time? I hardly think that is the case, most certainly not from Cincinnati artists, with my kind of foundation.

It couldn’t be the sex thing. Could it? I mean, in the context of contemporary art, most certainly NYC or world contemporary art (and Aaron is an international figure in the same) my stuff is nothing but mild.

Could it be the gay thing? To say that my cartoons are gay friendly is a gross understatement.

My inspiration, my entire thought process in sending them to Aaron (with the potential of Cincinnati becoming a future art center) was that Aaron would view me as being an opportunity. I honestly and sincerely thought that I was being his best hope manifested.   

I didn’t sleep that night.

The next day, I phoned Aaron.

I was told that he wasn’t in, so I asked to be put through to his voicemail.

I told him that it was nice to finally hear his voice, but that I was deeply perplexed as to why he rejected my offering, and that I needed an explanation, just so that I knew what to think. I left my number.

By the next day he hadn’t returned my call and I got to thinking about the other books. Where the hell were they? I had weeks of effort invested in each and every one of them. They were irreplaceable to me.

I called the museum again, only this time I asked to talk to Aaron’s secretary, as I didn’t want to bother the guy. I wanted him to get back to me on his own time.

Aaron picked up the phone.

BIG MOMENT IN MY LIFE.

(Read my Mary Boone Project sometime – when Mary picked up the phone.)

I told him who I was.

He said he knew who I was.

I told him that I was shocked that he had sent my book back.

He said that he found my material to be highly offensive and deeply disturbing.

I rather incredulously said that I couldn’t fathom why, and that I needed an explanation.

He hung up on me. 

********

I was reeling.

I just couldn’t believe this was happening.

I mean, I thought this guy was a major figure on the international contemporary art scene.

“Who the hell is this guy?” thought I.

He was coming off as being some kind of far right wing fundamentalist religious guy.

It was literally the last thing that I expected.

I had to do something just to maintain my sanity.

I called someone I know, who more or less knows Aaron, and explained what had just taken place.

“Well, he did take a job in Cincinnati. Maybe it’s who he is.”

I wasn’t satisfied.

“Look. I happen to know that Aaron is in a lot of hot water just now. He just got back from a tour of museums in Europe with the Board of Directors and their wives. He brought his spouse along, and some of the board were upset by their public displays of affection.”

I’m sure they found the same to be “highly offensive and deeply disturbing.”

He was just wallowing in his own angst, and so projected that same shit on me.

I was satisfied as to that aspect, but still, where the hell were my other three books?

I fired off a rather hostile email to Aaron’s secretary, demanding the safe return of my material.

(I’m not completely confident of the timeline of all this – just that all this occurred.)

Maybe it was the next (same?) day, I checked my email, and there was a reply from the secretary.

She said that normally such material is put in the museum archives, but she couldn’t find it and that maybe, since it was unsolicited, it was disposed of.

I called and left a rather hysterical message on her machine (I’m sure it will be embarrassing to me, but I hope she saved it), gulped down a glass of whiskey, called her back and left another. I remember telling her that this moment will define her career, as this is a profoundly historical event. “FIND MY FUCKING BOOKS!!!”

Maybe it was the next day she wrote back that my material had been found, but that due to storage space the three binders had been combined.

I had no idea what the hell that meant. They actually had the audacity to alter my art project? These are ART MUSEUM people? If I sent them a painting, would they saw off a couple of inches so it would fit on a shelf? What did they do with the cover art on the three binders? Where are the original three binders? Three binders combined into one binder, all to somehow save space? How much space could it save to make the effort worthwhile? Must be a huge fucking binder.

All these thoughts raced through my mind, but I wrote her back a much more calm email, thanking her for her effort, and promising that someone would be in touch to pick them up.

Howard picked them up.

Howard loves me as I do him.

He knew how concerned I was.

He called me as soon as he got home with the box.

He talked to me as he looked for a knife and then cut the seal.

He told me that “Monument Proposal” was there in its original binder, and it looked like everything in the “Interview With Tim Folzenlogen” cartoon was intact - but added to that binder was the content of the introduction to “The Everybody Project” (First Edition – which was intended as a gift to Aaron).

Howard said that my gift ILT #1 packet to Aaron was also in the box.

Missing, was my “The Next Big Thing Is Everybody” binder (Xerox copies with white pencil).

I’m sure it is somewhere.

No fricken way that anybody threw that sucker away. It was way too interesting, and it had art history written all over it.

It will show up some day.

I’ll be interested to hear the story.

I emailed Aaron’s secretary the next day (who was actually always very sweet to me, despite my hysterics) and notified her of the missing book. I told her that I would send her example copies of the cover art and a page or two from the book, so that she knew what to look for, but I have yet to do so.

My plan is to send it with my FINI writing (she will get a complimentary copy – as I had a dream about her too) which will accompany the final hardcopy books – which will not go out until after this writing is up on my website.

This was all months ago.

Perhaps she has found the book and notified me.

I wouldn’t know, as I haven’t checked my email since that time, and have no plans to.

I hardly ever even check my voicemail any more.

It’s not that I won’t.

It’s more like (at least at this time) I simply can’t.

This project has changed me.

I feel like I have to protect myself from everyone.

From now, I just want to do my art.

This project will be my last public outreach unsolicited project.

I decided to not to do anything until someone (the universe) reached out to me. 

********

Howard said that none of this would of happened if only Aaron had gotten to know me.

That may be true, but getting to know Aaron was not part of my inspiration, and so had nothing to do with my project.

My project was not the books.

My target was not to be loved, accepted and appreciated.

The target of all of my projects is to simply act on my inspiration as honestly and sincerely as I can, and then take responsibility for whatever happens.

Think deeply about it all, and then sincerely respond.

I then record everything that happened for the public record.

I mean, after being rejected by Aaron and all that occurred afterward, I felt physically ill for two or three months. I thought I had come down with stomach cancer, as the pain would not go away. That was part of the project too.

Let everyone be themselves, let everyone do and say whatever they want to do and say - and then allow for the public to consider what occurred and what, if any, lessons can be learned.

THAT is the project. 

********

My ultimate canvas is the world.

I want to change the world.

I’ve been saying that to everyone forever.

How to change the world?

By becoming an art star?

I have no doubt that I ultimately shall - but my sun will be a shooting star – just a momentary flash across the night sky.

My physical existence and everything I have accomplished will quickly be made irrelevant by the greater brightness of one’s own light, which is equal to my own (it’s only brighter because it is closer) and always has been – just everyone has been made to think of themselves as being dim.

It’s all that money, power, hype and celebrity stuff. Who can compete with those kinds of things? Of course we are made to feel small and impotent by comparison.

How to change that?

How to recreate the world, starting with the individual - the heart and mind of each and every individual - by illuminating them, by igniting them, by lighting them up?

********

Do you really think that artists (everyone) must also be politicians?

What then, once they meet and get to know the “important” other?

Start catering to their whims, their likes and dislikes, so as to be liked and accepted?

Do you really want to strap that monkey on the artist’s back?

That’s the compromising, the death, of truly great art.

I am a truly great artist.

********

It’s kind of standard practice among wanna-be great artists, who have a hard time being recognized as such, to point to the fact that van Gogh’s work was never recognized in his lifetime.

For the vast majority, this is just a pipe dream, and most of those artists give up the dream all on their own.

But when you look at van Gogh’s work – the obvious beauty of it – one can’t help but wonder how it could be that he was not appreciated.

I think it was because hardly anyone even saw it, as those who did (the power brokers) were heavily invested in something else.

The next big thing usually undermines that which currently is.

One simply has to wait until those individuals - those who control access and public opinion – those with the personal agendas - begin to fade or die off.

********

Great art is always a reflection of the time and place in which it is created. This has always been true.

Nobody was painting like Jackson Pollock in Ancient Egypt. They were all doing that Ancient Egyptian looking stuff.

Jackson looks more like jazz, and his own time and place.

The way I see the great art of the recent past, is that it was mostly about marketing. Money, power and control, celebrity and fashion, as that is what those times have been about.

It’s the perfection stage of all that Andy Warhol started.

Galleries invest millions, in order to make tens of millions.

It’s a package deal, as without the wrapper, no one cares about the artist’s work. It’s more about being clever, than it is about being an inspired genius of any kind.

If you fit the package and don’t make waves, you are in. Money and power determines who gets heard – who is important - who is unimportant. The current system ices out the voices of all but an elite few.

Times change.

I think that the next big thing in art, is artist as visionary leader, coming up with creative solutions to the critical problems facing society and the planet today.

Historically speaking, artists have often played that role.

More than ever before, we are living in a totally integrated world, where problems on the other side of the planet affect us all.

There are no unimportant people.

I believe that we are literally swimming in untapped genius, just at present, there is no incentive for most to believe in themselves and express. We need to create level fields so that more voices can be heard and objectively considered.

Everyone has something positive to contribute and, if treated respectfully, they are a threat to no one.

It is the marginalizing, the suppressing of the feelings of the majority, for the sake of the few, that is the root cause of all of the problems.

The next big thing is everybody.