Throw away life, but not the books

I saw a video that is posted on blinkx describing the art of Michael Landy referred by my artist daughter as we were discussing the impermanence of some sculpture that is created and installed, and not very salvageable or portable thereafter. Like performance art, without digital recording and documentation there may be only scraps as artifacts from which to remember. Or like the proverbial fallen tree in the woods, was it ever standing? Do we know for certain if no one can remember seeing it?

Critics classify Landy’s work as “breakdown,” though it is sometimes, once upon a time, was a product of shredding his personal belongings.

Herein lays my take on the story. We go through life collecting things – save the high school year book – save the science project award – save signatures of friends – save a book – save more books – build book shelves and save still more books – move books – never throw away books – rarely reread a book – but always treasure books, magazines, favorite articles and such. Oh sure, we do the same with sketches and paintings and artifacts of all kinds.  Don’t throw away the stereo, it still works.

I have auxiliary storage for all of those books, yet there was a point when I was on another transcontinental move across the USA when the truck came and they said, “It’s full. Can’t take no more. You must give it up!”

I stared at a wall of books and pondered, “Which ones stay and which come with me?” I touched each one and remembered when I bought it or how it was acquired. I remember when I read it – how often I revisited it. Sometimes I would look inside to read the note made by the person who gave it to me. Is he still alive? Of course, I would keep the signed Ginsberg, and the signed Steve Martin.

I didn’t just leave the books by the trash bin. I had a yard sale give away. The yard sale lasted five minutes before I begged people to take them away – give them a good read and a good spot on the bookshelf.