Jason Polan died in late January this year (#fuckcancer). He was 37 years old. The first time I saw his work was a cover he'd made for Austin Bat Cave's anthology of stories and poems written by kids. He was one of a dozen artists commissioned for custom covers to help raise money for the nonprofit. It was immediately my favorite.
I love that goofy ass dinosaur and whatever that chonky cat is at the bottom. I love that he used the entire cover and smothered it with black ink. There are so many details in this drawing that I love. Is that dinosaur holding a puppet string? Is the penny decorative wall art? Where do you think those stairs lead? The Great Valley, perhaps?
Somebody put in a bid for the book but never came to claim it , so Jason's dino cover anthology went back on the shelf, happily snarling at other lesser books.
Jason is best known for his Every Person in New York project where he set out to sketch every person in New York City. The NY Times called it a quixotic quest, but if you ever spotted him drawing a man across the street ordering lunch from a hot dog cart, you believed he really could do it. He released the first Every Person in New York book—volume 1—which included 30,000 people.
I met Jason a few years ago on a short trip to New York. We were staying on Bowery, and I took the train to visit a friend of mine at the Warby Parker HQ in SoHo. It took me a few seconds to recognize him in his oversized jacket and it took me even longer to work up the courage to say hello. I thanked him for the work he did on behalf of Bat Cave. What I remember most about our interaction was his sweetness. He was so kind and gracious in the way that he received me and spoke with me. We spoke no more than a few minutes before he had left, but it left an impression. On my way back to the hotel, I couldn't stop smiling from this simple pleasure of coming out of the subway, and by chance meeting somebody I admired from afar and sharing a pleasant conversation together. This was a particular New York magic, I felt.
This is where a picture of me meeting Jason Polan would go if I'd thought to take one
When I heard that Jason passed, I e-mailed my friend from Warby Parker who had also introduced us. They were friends, and I knew he'd be devastated. He wrote back, "The world has lost a sweet, kind soul. May we all lead better lives for having known him."
Jason was light. If you know his artwork, you had a glimpse into how he saw the world. It was vast and moving quickly. If somebody moved or stood up while he was drawing them, he might give them a third arm or a second head. His work feels joyful. Guileless but sophisticated. He drew with delight. And he always seemed to be drawing, so that you might think at any moment, Jason might be drawing you.
His work is a testament to the power and importance of witness. In Jason Polan's world, we are all worthy to be drawn. We are all art.
With Jason's passing, there was an outpouring of love and remembrance. It made me think of my friend's e-mail imploring us to lead better lives for having known him.
Jason never stopped sketching. New York never stopped moving. Every day, people from all over the world visited and moved to New York. He drew them all. Every Person in New York wasn't quixotic. Jason wasn't being cheeky. He was reverent. Jen Bekman, who founded the online gallery 20x200 which represented him said, "At its heart, Jason’s Every Person in New York project was an exercise in optimism and inclusivity."
When I first started baking bread, I told everybody listening that if they lived in or were traveling through Austin and wanted a loaf of bread, I would make it for them. To date, I've baked and delivered bread to more than a dozen friends, family, and strangers including a guy who asked me to call him Seabass.
To honor Jason Polan, I am trying to bake a loaf of bread for every person in Austin. I will bake as often as I can and post as frequently as I can. Some of you will get a loaf of bread without having asked for one. If you don't want or can't eat this bread, I hope you happily pass it onto a friend or loved one. If you want to request a loaf of bread, please contact me, and I'll find time in my schedule to bake you a loaf.
In the words of Jason, "When the project is completed we will all have a get together."