Anna Haifisch

0:00Thank you, Matt.

0:19This is me in the bear costume five years ago. Today I'm speaking in front of 400 people at this nice event.

0:30So I think I made it. Yeah, I'm going to read from the artist. It's a series of comic episodes I wrote for Weiss.

0:48So I have the Weiss thing on me. Yeah, and I'm going to just start from the very beginning. The birth of the artist. My mother was a swan. My father was a crane. I was their only egg. My parents were there offspring. Me? With endless love and patience. At the age of seven. After my Sunday bath. Once when my mom combed my hair. I said the six faithful words that would lay out my future. Mom, I want to become an artist. In case you notice a mild odor of feathers. Or cat in the room. An artist is seeking shelter behind your oak furniture. A little bowl of fruity loops. Oh, well, there's a panel missing. But a little bowl of fruity loops will bring him out. Be patient. Once the artist emerges. Build a nest of twigs.

2:39Whisper tender things through his feathery light hair. There will always be food, money and a home for you. Poor Newton's ink over his forehead. Artists consider this as heavily erotic. I will tell him of care. Oh, God, I'm late. I'm so late. I'm so late. Oh, God, I'm so late. Oh, hi. No, no, you didn't wake me up. Yeah, I'm working on it right now. Just about to send off the files. Okay, talk to you soon. Dear artist, the art exhibit committee of our gallery has reviewed your portfolio. Your line is brilliant and sharp. Your colors tickled our shy eyes. Although very childlike, we miss a lightness and playfulness in your work. Your repetitive use of the snake motive. It's really not for us. We feel your strong nihilistic overtones are not a good fit in our gallery. Please accept these smarties and this toy as a token of our well-wishing. Sincerely yours, the gallery assistant.

5:32I started a joke, which started the whole world crying. But I didn't see that the joke was on me. Oh, no.

6:02I started to cry, which started the whole world laughing. Oh, if I don't see that the joke was on me. I looked at the sky. I haven't said anything in like 40 minutes. What are they even talking about? Oysters? Snakes? The other end of the table sits the art editor of vice. I shouldn't make an impression, be eloquent or something.

7:18But I have nothing to say. Look at Ivan, fucking king of the table. Now it's 47 minutes without me saying anything. Haha, look how these peas are touching each other like a caterpillar. Oh, no. Was it me saying that? Oh, God. I can see someone.

8:12What's he doing out here? A message in a bottle? Who would do such a thing? To whom it may concern. I appreciate you giving me this quiet studio space and the weaving workshop. Bringing me here and providing me with food is really nice of you. The loom in the barn looks very neat. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to get there yet. I don't want to sound unthankful or something.

8:51But I'm becoming a bit concerned about my supplies. The wifi password you gave me doesn't seem to work. Maybe you can send somebody to pick me up. I apologize for the inconvenience. Your artist in residence. Popcorn machine over there. Fishing simulator to your left. Wireless printer and scanner on this smoothie lounge. I'd like you to meet our Koi skatsuhiro and Kuni. From the Kyoto Prefecture. 50K of fashion. When can you start? You mean working? Tomorrow? Working? What an ugly word. Here we call it frolicking. Naruto san, our in-house sushi chef. Bouto the world's best sashimi slicer. Our conference room. All the potential under this roof. It's giving me the jewels. So, where will my desk be? A desk? How crammed? Our country's freest minds are operating from ball pools. In the books, before this episode, the artist had another nervous breakdown. He had to move back in with his parents. Dear friend, I wanted to let you know that I'm getting better.

11:08My days here are characterized by comfortable monotony. I'm spending my afternoon drawing little greeting cards. My dad is bringing over to the community center down the street. I had three large crickets and a silkworm for lunch. Every evening, I'm revisiting my old collection of food labels. I had a very noble taste as a child. He won't recognize me next time we are seeing each other. I let my hair grow out. I always thought I was someone special. I realized I'm not. Talk to you soon, my friend. This episode is a Haiku comic. On the drawing paper, it drips from my beak. It is bitterly cold. I'm gazing out the window of my studio. I'm watching you. Lonely snake, don't cry over your wet sandwich. I feel for you. Little duck, only your friends remember it's your birthday today. Poor heron, nobody would say you a scarf for your bird money. Garbage weasel, you too could use a little woven cape. Young mouse, you deserve to be happy. Don't let anybody think it's just a rodent's life. Everybody come in, I give you shelter in my chamber of insanity, my nest. The episodes I read were from the first two books, the first two seasons of The Artist. I'm writing on the third book and a lot has changed. It's going to be an opera, a bird opera. The artist is successful now. I'm going to read one act from the new series. I don't know if it's made for reading it out loud.

13:41I think it should be sung, but I can't sing. Here's the life I've always longed for. I own so many things. I feel I chose the wrong door. Welles is pulling down my wings. Greet the mailman, call the plumber. Clean the mousetrap, shoot a mole. Common life is such a bummer. Foodie loops drown in a bowl. Here's the life I never wanted. Little mouse on trap is dead. My must I always feel so haunted. Mouse blood paints my carpet red. Thank you. Thank you for having me. Thanks for listening to this depressing stuff.