For a long time, the world was upside down. But truth, like art, has its own gravity. Today is a simple celebration of the journey—not for the sake of the fight, but for the sake of the story these colors were always meant to tell.
Below is the journey of the artwork sold in 1991 and 1992 to a woman at her flea market booth in Okeechobee, Florida. This very market is about to be torn down—but the history inside it is finally coming home.
Beyond the brushstrokes lies the paper trail of a thirty-five-year promise. These notes are the heartbeat of the investigation, capturing history as it was actually written—not how they managed it. They were written between my mother and Frederick R. Koch in 1991 and 1992 during her art encounters with him at her flea market booth.
We are all just passengers on the way back to the truth. See you on the 14th.
Above is my wedding photo from September 19, 1992. The year this journey launches us...
