it’s funny how things turn and change.

Since I have been specializing for so may years living in small spaces with minimal things I have always kept the number of books I had to a minimum. Just about twelve, some first editions, others out of print – of books that I find comfort in, that have shaped my life, that teach me.

And they are books I quote from often but never lend out.

Well, in the course of my very strange and stressful year – when I half moved out of my studio (the cave with the composting toilet and good ideas) and into the albatross (with its huge space, shining wood floors and bad ideas) I left those books on the floor.

I have just returned to the cave, having freed myself from the albatross and started the process of getting myself back to the life I want (and got briefly distracted from). Everything was good and fine, but my books…were covered with a peculiar kind of slime.

And out they had to go.

The strange thing is, I didn’t even blink an eye in the course of it all. I still have a few books – and tellingly…revealing the nature of the motivations behind my move earlier and several other decisions, they are books I could not care less about.

What has become different in me is I realize that those 12 books I carried for so many years are written inside me. I no longer need them for comfort…in a way I have begun to go beyond them. And frankly, I have even more books that are becoming my new “master 12” but they are…electronic and on the crackberry.

While not the ideal form (I love the feel and smell of books), the life I lead demands light weight things and things that I do not have to worry about getting slimed should I make a few misguided decisions.

But I am here…in the cave again, feeling like myself for the first time since October. The mad kitten is in the yard, happier then she has been all winter. I mean, she has been rolling and playing…patrolling her yard and getting ready for a summer season of Stans.

And equally as bizarre…that rose bush, the scrawny discount one my wonderful and dangerous landlady put in my charge last fall has become one of the most obnoxiously blooming things in the neighborhood. My landlady drove by and saw it and immediately texted me to ask if I would be interested in taking charge of a small japanese maple.

of course
of course

here is chapter three: the New Hypocrite

and here is Lyn Goeringer performing an excerpt from her piece “HIDen” (just for a change of pace).

HIDden (Excerpt from Lyn Goeringer on Vimeo.

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About cassandratribe

"There are few artists that can do what Cassandra Tribe does. Whether with her poetry, her videos or her blog, Cassandra examines the truths that most of us can never come close to realizing and shows it for what it is, both beautiful and frightening at the same time. She exposes our inner-most workings like the cross-section of a powerful but flawed machine, our gears and springs, nuts and bolts removed and laid out before us. She is a true artist. Her new video, Requiem for a God, is the latest example of Cassandra's willingness to tear open and examine the very things that make us human. Shooting the film entirely by herself, she also eliminates all the little excuses we come up with to keep us from ourselves and our truth. You see, even when she's not trying to be, Cassandra Tribe is a beacon of truth and humanity in this darkest of worlds." (Michael E. Quigg, The Culture Network, June 2009)
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