With the inclusion of the computer in my life I don't feel more stressed. I am angry when my computer doesn't work but I am writing more and faster with his help. But only because I am using it like a typewriter and some support for my overloaded brain. I have more time to meditate and empty my head since I don't need to memorize and rig so much, I meet my friends on line and am neither so dependent on financial sources for long distance phone calls, nor have I to be at the same time at the right place to have refreshing dialogue with someone I miss. The output has increased which I feel is a progress in terms of self-consciousness and self reflection and I learned to think differently. I must admit that it might be the practice that saves time by now but part of it is certainly this little computer. It shows me immediately what I thought, functions like a mirror for more reflection and objectifies your thought. Control functions serve also as stoppers.

I think the fact that people are writing more again is not negative, it is better than using phones all the time and talking about the weather. When you have to translate your talk into written sentences you are still a little more careful, I think. Something that made me conscious about that once happened to me while I was performing at Exit Art in New York as Hermes' Mistress. During this time I lived and worked in my red huge silk dress, that I was embroidering with beads, processing information from the Internet. When I was leaving my dress I was very recognizable because I went out in my red under-wear, completely dressed in red. So I felt like a public person and a little more watched. One day I went out and was surprised from the rain. Coming back to Exit Art the elevator to the second floor was very crowded and I felt very unprotected and slightly strange because of my wet body. I said: "oh it is so wet outside" there was one person who seemed to not understand and asked me to repeat. I felt embarrassed but I said "oh it was nothing important, I just said, it is so wet outside" the person (It was Joseph Grigely, who I didn't know by that time, who is deaf and makes artworks with conversations, that he had with people) asked me to repeat again. I was almost angry and briefly said again "It is so wet". He bothered me further and got me a piece of paper and a pencil and I felt terribly embarrassed to write down the words: it is so wet. So I wrote:

" I wish I would have said something more thought and meaningful, that is worth it to understand and written down, but I just said "Oh, it is so wet outside"

Fortsetzung folgt...to be continued tomorrow