9 years ago I was at the top of my game. Then my best friend died and everything started to unravel. In recent months,Â I have been abandoned by my therapist (following a session where I confessed I was contemplating suicide again, no less), my family, my partner, and the majority of my friends. I came across the perfect location on a walk to the beach a couple of weeks ago — a cliff overlooking the ocean – beautiful and frightfully high. So, rather than wasting my time sending out resumes, I plan to spend the coming weeks destroying all of my artwork, unloading all of my personal possessions, and preparing to make my final vanishing act. I dream of making the suicide itself a work of art, like Ray Johnson managed to do, but, in my case, who would notice? Like all of my work, I’m convinced that this attempt to make art out of my death would also be ignored.