For as long as I've known him, my dear friend David Schoffman has never made an important decision that he didn't later regret.
Forever looking over his shoulder and neurotically questioning the purity of his intentions, David is the classic dialectical ditherer.
Like the time he went to Germany to take part in the now infamous Suntanned: Painting in Los Angeles exhibition.
No sooner did his plane land in Frankfort that he started worrying whether his decision to withhold from the show his best work was a good one. He reasoned that if he put in a few second-rate pieces and get away with it he could at least claim some small victory over what he saw as the post-war teutonic pretense of contrite entitlement.
Or the time, on a bet, he had himself tethered to a cable and while jumping off a 35 story ledge he hollered for the benefit of an awaiting camera crew "Vive Yves Klein!"
He also soiled himself in the process and for nearly two years afterwards he avoided elevators, large crowds and kites .
I suppose the decision that David may regret the most is his alleged entanglement with the erratic Saskia Goncourt-Delcourte.
Linked by casual circumstance to several extreme right-wing European nationalist political movements, the beautiful Goncourt-Delcourte is also an avid collector of contemporary art. Despite his repeated denials, she and Schoffman are rumored to have sustained a discreet liason which, if true, would completely discredit David's carefully curated progressive bona fides.
It's hard to feel bad for the guy since his lifelong misdirection seems to follow some preordained and willful pattern.
The good news is that as his own worst enemy the dagger precariously poised at his throat remains forever ambivalent, irresolute and irrevocably torn.
Like the time he went to Germany to take part in the now infamous Suntanned: Painting in Los Angeles exhibition.
No sooner did his plane land in Frankfort that he started worrying whether his decision to withhold from the show his best work was a good one. He reasoned that if he put in a few second-rate pieces and get away with it he could at least claim some small victory over what he saw as the post-war teutonic pretense of contrite entitlement.
He also soiled himself in the process and for nearly two years afterwards he avoided elevators, large crowds and kites .
I suppose the decision that David may regret the most is his alleged entanglement with the erratic Saskia Goncourt-Delcourte.
Linked by casual circumstance to several extreme right-wing European nationalist political movements, the beautiful Goncourt-Delcourte is also an avid collector of contemporary art. Despite his repeated denials, she and Schoffman are rumored to have sustained a discreet liason which, if true, would completely discredit David's carefully curated progressive bona fides.
It's hard to feel bad for the guy since his lifelong misdirection seems to follow some preordained and willful pattern.
The good news is that as his own worst enemy the dagger precariously poised at his throat remains forever ambivalent, irresolute and irrevocably torn.
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