Cat Tyc is a Brooklyn based writer/videomaker whose work exists on the precipice of poetic mediology. She has an MFA in Writing from Pratt Institute. Her video/installation work has screened locally and internationally at spaces that include Recess, Microscope Gallery, Anthology Film Archives, CUNY Graduate Center, Brooklyn Museum, Kassel Fest and the PDX International Festival. Her most recent writings have been published in Weekday, The Sink Review, 6x6 and Fashion Studies Journal. She teaches writing and composition throughout the New York City area within the CUNY system.
Dear Mt. Rainier,
You make good beer and you make me want to give it all up and be your princess when you call me a peach. I will climb you someday and take many photos.
Always in shining, it is a greeting. To be in your midst. I melt beyond what I want. But what the world wants.
Rungs without ladders. This all started with the love of my mother.
This is no accident. I just wanted to present her an ideal method for distilling apple spirits.
That is some kind of prophecy. Because you know. It will happen. Dead soldier. I type and retype the prayer. Tiny enough to fit in a pocket of panic. We will turn the tape over. I believe. It has two sides. Metallic flowers. This exposed fragility does not belong in my hands.
X,
Cat