“I’ve found a techno relationship cuts right into the core, the soul, brings out an almost more real version of yourself, makes you see yourself differently, your own potential to be better. It can achieve a level of emotional perfection. That’s also the problem…”
There are no facts about my father, Vinicio Morelli, which are not stories, interpretations, points of view…
That room is gone. Or rather, the room is still there, but what’s in it now is so different from what was in it before that the room itself seems transformed. It holds a vast model of the world we live in, built to scale and rendered in exquisite detail…
Following him into the darkest places taught me to never be afraid of the dark. / It’s full of unimaginable euphoric surprises…
The movie proves to be, rather than glitchy and fragmentary, a deliberate and careful unfolding of the more perplexing and realistic struggle ensnaring us in the contemporary world.
What was Harold Bloom? I don’t know, but here is my answer for now.
How to decipher Alejandro Jodorowsky’s symbolic film world? Here’s an introduction.
“I must return love and life to those who offered me death / Gestating with hundreds and thousands of babies in me: / Progeny of my intercourse with the rock.”
An introduction to Brigid’s new podcast CHTHONIA with a discussion of the relevance of dark feminine mythology for modern times.
Jeremy Johnson, current president of the International Jean Gebser Society, long-time Gebser student, and accomplished expositor, presents a thoughtful look at a key – and difficult – idea, the nature of the integral structure of consciousness.
Note: The following takes place between October 2018 and January 2019. I’m not in control. I’m trusting the currents to guide my ship to safe ports, trusting the process, letting go. I’m learning along the way. The biggest lesson so far has been how to …
You must listen intently to the sound in your ears. It’s a carrier signal. The message is layered into it.
Yes. It was the Werewolf, he said. I ask him what happened.
How much further are we going? She isn’t really asking me. Just thinking aloud.
There was a boy once upon a time who lived in a small village with his mother, this father, and his sister.
So this man lived once in a fairly clean house, up along a good road. A good neighbourhood. This was the man I told you about.
Where did those men go? What men? He says he didn’t notice; had his eyes closed listening to some music the barman had put on.
Fade out. The music fades out. I say you’re a strange girl. She doesn’t reply immediately so I stay: switch channels.
Three black bags lay on the table and the telephone was ringing in the back. That’s where it was.
So in this photograph are a boy and a girl. The boys sits on the ground to the left and the girl lies on the ground to the right.
The point about the Werewolf is this: a popular conversation about categories of things.
This guy works in a store. He has a bulging gut but his heart was in the right place.
And off we set with the black bag in the trunk of the car. The drive to the restaurant is some two hundred miles of desert, mountain passes.
I was wrong. It did change. How can you hear the cries of others and not listen?
I get flashbacks of war. But I wasn’t there
Now see what you think about this: a man up along a road stood next to a tan colored car.
Letters. The writing on the brown envelope said: photocopies as requested.
As I mentioned, this isn’t my natural line of work. I just fell into it.
Every now and then the old man would rock back on his heels. Every now and then.
You must listen intently to the sound in your ears. It’s a carrier signal.