It was called, in whispers, a successful failure. Participation occurred without coherent intention – its two-dimensional documentation lacked enigma. The canvas was overwhelmed by cacophony; everyone shouting and no one listening – we were back in kindergarten, fighting for the marker with the loudest color. But there remained a commitment to conversation, a question of respect.

After attempts to salvage lost narratives, WDYHTL was unrolled for the second time, on Columbus Day 2007. The location was Prospect Park, in New York City. The second round of participation was much different than the first – more sober. There were more questions asked, the contributions more intimate.

“What do I have to lose?” she asked. “Myself, I suppose.” Then she lay down on the canvas and asked her friend to trace her body.