Quotes from Rob Spillman

Gray is to Berliners what white is to Eskimos and red is to the Maori.

I was possessed by what the Germans call Sehnsucht, one of those wonderfully untranslatable words that combines longing and nostalgia for a home that one doesn't even know is one's home.

Once again I distrusted happiness, mistaking it for complacency.

Hank was full of absolutes, pronouncements like "Art has no utility" and "Warhol is irrelevant.

We embraced the second two affirmations. "I am good at art, I am learning" became the final words to any argument, the punch line of any joke, and our collective mantra.

THE SUMMER OF 1972, I watched TV for the first time. The Munich Olympics were broadcast around the clock and I loved its opera-worthy spectacle and drama.

I didn't think of myself as American or German, but as a little of both. I didn't speak only German or only English, but used whatever words worked best for the situation.

Of course I'm going to jump into the abyss. That's what I do—throw myself into the unknown.

I am nowhere. I am home.

I have no memories of my parents being together. They separated six months before the concert at which my father was booed. It is hard for me to imagine them as a couple.

While I threw myself into any social situation, could put on any mask—punk, preppy, artist—I also put masks on everyone I met, instantly judging them. I inhabited my masks, adopted the personas. Perhaps it was self-preservation, and stemmed from my itinerant childhood, which had forced me to form friendships quickly, potential allies or foes judged in an instant.

Even with my limited self-awareness

How easy it is to upend your life. To restless, heedless me it was nothing.

For me, this wasn't a big leap—our fleeing known New York for the uncertainty of life in Europe was within the continuum of leaps I had been making my entire life.

If I'm free, it's because I'm always running." —Jimi Hendrix Soundtrack:

I thought of James Baldwin, retreating to Paris in order to catch his breath and be stronger in his fight against oppression back home. I wanted to stomp the earth and leave giant footprints. What is the point of living if you don't leave your mark?

BEREA, KENTUCKY, 1939.