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I was born in the slums of Manhattan's Lower East-Side, April 15, 1941. My mother came from Poland and my father from Galicia. I ran away from school when I was 11 years old and didn't graduate from High School until I was 35.
I grew up in the street gang culture of the early 50s. I moved to the East Village when I was 17 years old, worked in various Fourth Avenue bookstores writing book catalogs, married an actress and began publishing with Andy Warhol, Gerard Melanga and Willard Mass, in 1965. I can recall peeping in at the Cedar Street Bar on University when I was a kid, seeing the likes of Jackson Pollack and Franz Klein at the bar.
Active on the literary scene in New York at St.Marks and working for Dick Higgins at Something Else Press until 1970, I moved with my family to the Northeast Kingdom, Vermont. In 1982 I moved again with my family to Tel Aviv where I still reside. Spanning a literary career that lasted 35-40 years, I finally kicked the bitch goddess of poetry in the ass and began taking photos in my 50's. When I was a boy, my father had a Yashica hidden in the closet which I never learned to use. My brother sold it to buy drugs and made a clay sculpture of it to fill the case, so the change in weight would pass unnoticed. I don't know why it took me so long learning to use a camera, I am not sure I ever will. In fact, I'm not sure I want to finally learn anything. I am more interested in the process of learning than to become actually learned. It's more fun. All sincere creativity begins with pleasure - passion rules the universe!
Meanwhile I keep playing with cameras until all the mistakes are mis-taken and becomes the norm, and replaces the 'truth', entirely?then, when I have nearly reached perfection, or begin to approach a point of 'professionalism', I throw them away and look for more broken toys to play with.
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