Last year as I was walking through the dark Manhattan toward the hospital and choking a bit from Covid - I am like, man i won’t get to finish these and no Mars for me. Damn. Now i am like - I want them at least 150 feet and I want to die on Mars, it will be the ultimate adventure. My molecules will seed another planet and my eyes will last gaze the stars. Or maybe i should be shot out of a Martian cannon and my body will become and interstellar artifact. I want this to be my last performance. If the Universe permits of course.
The Giant Hands are veterans of so many escapades, they've been in ditches, hung on Broadway, drugged through footpaths, they have been walked on, biked on, torn to pieces and put back together again. Painted, cleaned and painted again.
Giant Hand with artist for scale