My escape plan was short and sweet:

1. Quit day job. 2. Sell eggs. 3. Go to India and Sri Lanka. 4. Change everything.

I knew my Asian father wouldn’t understand. He sees my life in the long run, wanting to make sure I’m not on the streets selling my vagina for meth in 20 years, because when you don’t have a 401K, that’s what happens.

Dad: “Whatever you do, don’t quit your job.”

Me: Hey, Dad — I quit my job. And I’m going to India and Sri Lanka.”

“No — traveling is not something you get out of your system.”

“Don’t worry. I have a plan.”

After graduating from Harvard, I crushed my father’s Americano-Chinaman dreams by working various social service jobs for $8.00 an hour, then volunteering with the Peace Corps, and finally, becoming… More…

 

Martin Kippenberger was a wreck. When he finally died at 44, he’d so beaten himself up with drink and bad living that the grave must have been a relief. The show currently on view at MoMA, “Martin Kippenberger: The Problem Perspective,” is something like a catalogue of everything Kippenberger had been doing in the years before he finally expired. There are doodles on scraps of paper and delicate water color scenes, announcement cards and his collections of music. There are sculptures created through the arrangement of assorted pieces of used and modified furniture and full-scale oil works on canvas. Everything is represented, from the offhand gesture to the fully intentional work. Kippenberger, it seems, could not stop making art. Yet, he rarely seems to have been pleased by that state of affairs. The theme of shame appears throughout…. More…