Irony. Wit. Anonymity. Banksy
Excerpted from Seven Years with Banksy, © Robert Clarke 2012
It was 1994. I was living in the Williamsburg borough of Brooklyn, New York City, shoulder to shoulder with artists, poets and transients all converting a large old warehouse into living quarters. Spaces were huge and rent was minimal. About twelve of us shared a bathroom but it was all good and functional.
My room was basic, with access to an adjacent roof that offered a view of the city. There was a nest of rats down my stairwell but as long as they didn’t come into my room they never bothered me.