An American Dream

Norman with a flea market find. We still have that lamp!

Not everything we buy comes with a receipt. We love to walk around a flea market and a lot of what we find requires just a few dollars and no written invoice. It's not that we collect a specific time period or style of furniture, we just like older things, things that were meant to last. Things that were used and loved. Our house is full of vintage radios, beautiful wooden coffee grinders, and hand-cranked victrolas. One day we bought a bedroom set from an estate sale and Zach asked if we ever went to a store to buy new. My son was very astute, even at such a young age.

Then Ikea came to New Jersey, and buying new became fun (and a puzzle to build). Our house became an eclectic mix of old stuff and new Scandinavian cool stuff. It is definitely not a decorator's dream home, but we like it. It's our home. And it's our American dream.

My friend, Joyce, knows a bargain better than anyone. She spends her Sunday mornings perusing the aisles in the Englishtown Flea Market and spends very little for something great. We have a lot in common when it comes to second-hand shopping, thrifting, and crafting. I thought she might enjoy a night at the Monmouth Museum to meet an artist who made a name for himself by recycling paper into art.

Dong Kyu Kim, a New Jersey emerging artist at the Monmouth Museum

Dong Kyu Kim, born and raised in South Korea shared his journey with us through clear, although slightly hesitant English. His struggles to prove he made it in the United States were preserved in the receipts (a word he pronounced recess) that he collected from his purchases. The fancier the store, the prouder he was of his receipt. He preferred highlighting his trips to Whole Foods instead of a Korean market and a designer clothing store instead of the Gap. (Hmmm... the Gap is a designer store for me!)

A traditional Korean wedding dress the artist created out of receipts

A trip to New York became a work of art

His consumer habits proved he made it in America. He found his American dream. His day job is in fashion design, a status he was quite proud of and repeated to us often. His hobby, though, was manually stitching receipts with embroidery floss to a backing made out of Swiffer sheets. He turned the most mundane of materials into a thing of beauty. He knows his receipts will eventually fade and the paper will wear thin, but his art is not about longevity, nor is it for sale. The beautiful panels and traditional Korean garments have become his memoir; a story of an immigrant's struggle to find his worth through the American dollars he spent.

If we spent little for a great lamp and received no receipt for it, what proof do we have of our dream? After 35 years, our lamp still shines brightly on a family that enjoys gathering together in a lovely, old living room. Our memories are as tangible as the frail papers of a dreaming artist.

I dream of art, as Norman does of tennis. But we also dream of a future filled with many more years together and a wonderful life for our children. What is your American Dream?