Journal Archive

Our friends at Collaboration Journal share the following announcement: The Sri Aurobindo Association has received donations for one-year gift subscriptions to Collaboration journal for nonsubscribers, as a means to broaden our reade …

Will I ever enjoy listening to Kind of Blue again knowing that Miles Davis abused and beat his wife when he was outside the recording studio?

Appealing and fast-paced, this novel set in 1950s Mexico is a classic tale of an attractive young woman marrying into family with sinister secrets, who finds her choices taken away, and her life and sanity under threat. True to the gothic genre, the cr …

Insightful stories peel back the secrets within families, but the dazzling moment comes as you pass the midpoint of the book, and the connections between these universes begin to be revealed.

Properly speaking, shadows are not those places where the light is blocked. In the earliest reconstructed languages, those places have no names, though the proto-word for shadow does exist. Shadows were the beings that lived in those places of blocked light. Through the corruption of time, they have lent their name to their native homes, been subsumed by them, been forgotten.

With his first book recently published, essayist, poet, and artist Brian George reflects on the bizarre and often humorous ways that great works of the past were received by their contemporary critics, and how changes in the cultural landscape over the last few centuries—but especially since his coming of age in the Boston poetry and punk scenes of the late 1970s—have profoundly altered the ways we read, receive, and understand new works.

Each chapter of Masks of Origin—a book of what perhaps can only be called “visionary” essays, by Brian George—reads like an individual novel. Divided into personal and universal experiences, each informs the other. Descriptions of events in childhood and adulthood provide a wormhole into the cosmos.

I opened Brian George’s physically beautiful Masks of Origin—adorned with three-and-a-fraction of his own electric geometric red-green gargoyles, to find myself “reading,” if one might call it that, the whole book nearly straight-through that day, and the next…

A paean to Albert Murray and his hybrid memoir/literary criticism masterpiece of 1971, South to a Very Old Place.

Fiction, films and search engines meet indigenous names and the chatter of jays; where does our attention wander when it strays on the dappled path?

“Think outside the box,” they say. What if your box is doing the thinking? Where does your thinking end and your box begin? How many boxes does it take to screw in a light bulb? The answer may surprise you.

From my very childhood, I’ve always been curious, interested, in a quest to find out what actually life is. What, in fact, is death? Where do we humans come from, and where do we go after death? Or, why we humans are on earth at all, and then die?

Our bodies transform what we eat, and with our minds we re-create and transform culture. Here are some of the works that have gotten our attention recently and feel worth sharing.

“The Second” was written for a speculative fiction writing workshop and very last-minute in its original form. I did the plotting and world-building on the fly, and basically the original idea was “what if the protagonist were trying to save their friend from a duel?”

Fakes, egregores, and conspiracies are overtaking our perceptions of the world—what’s behind such reality mirrors, and where do the reflections or projections in them come from? Join Brigid and a group of kindred spirits for readings, discussion, and a deep exploration of these intriguing questions at the edges of our knowing.

An update on Metapsy editor Brigid Burke’s project Chthonia, exploring the dark feminine; writing projects in the works and expanded offerings

There are moments when the world comes suddenly to a stop, when the ground withdraws its support, when a schism opens, into which one may or may not fall. The world then employs its archaic sleight-of-hand to remove whatever faith you may have placed in this event. The structure of projection has barely missed a beat, but the schism in your psyche has not actually been sealed…

Another intimate Readers Underground group has formed around Maia’s See You In Our Dreams, a book described as “a long, complex, slow exploration of the final paroxysms of a dystopic future before something starts to change.”

What does Space mean to you? Do you have enough of it? Too little, too much? How do you make space… for Space? This piece was composed for an evening of Poetic Alchemy held in Boulder, Colorado, in the spring of 2019.

The struggle is real. Many of us aren’t doing what we really want to be doing. We may or may not hate our day jobs, but sometimes you reach a point where you wonder if you’re not just wasting your time. Income is certainly a consideration; many of us s …

What if you could slow down time? In a distant, not-so-far-off future, humanity has gained the power to alter the localized flow of time at will, enabling new ways of experiencing the universe and operating in extreme environments. Here is an account of the scientific speculation that went into the concept of tempo control in my upcoming novel Plenum: The First Book of Deo.

Want to get involved in an elegantly anarchic, unusually high-reward, though, at present, exceedingly low-paying, creatively oriented cooperative venture? OR… do you have your own opportunity for productive entanglement / ecstatic emergence you wish …

Infinite Conversations has been pursuing an extended reading program for Sri Aurobindo’s writings for several years now. Here is an update on our progress, with information on how you can participate…

Metapsychosis editor Mary Thaler interviewed Deniz Ozan-George, an artist based in Boston, Massachussetts. Though she’s recently completed one portrait, Deniz considers herself first and foremost an abstract painter, lyrical, and expressionist.

Susan Evans’s poem “Lucy” appeared on Metapsychosis website in Autumn 2020. During the following winter, we exchanged emails in which Susan told me about her creative process, her sources of inspiration, and what her hopes for the coming year.

Projecting human capability and knowledge into the far future, provided we learn to manage our own planet, it seems possible that humans might learn how to modify stars in ways suited to their future needs. Why might one modify stars? I can think of a …