Sunday, December 30, 2018

Musings on trans-personal consciousness

Sitting on a ridge in the Mojave Desert, just north of Joshua Tree National Park, watching a rain storm blow in…

Like fronts of weather moving across a landscape, similarly, emotions and beliefs blow across human societies and through human consciousness, and we, without the “meteorological” tools to see, measure, track, or forecast those fronts of emotion, instead experience them as arisen from ourselves, individually, and thus with no capacity to prepare for and shelter ourselves from them, so that we might be able to remain largely unaffected and undamaged by the storms such fronts can bring on. Instead, we are overwhelmed by them, and blown like tumbleweeds across the emotional landscape; a society, a world of tumbleweeds blown about without shelter or stability.

We have yet to understand that...

To read the rest of this short musing, please go to:
or specifically:

Tuesday, December 04, 2018

I just posted 2 short vignettes from the Atternen Juez Talen translated back into 'normal' English. You can find them at Filtered Lights, A Public Notebook. Here's the link:

And here's a little add-on, a picture from our front yard looking at the lit up house across the street, shopped up a bit, of course:

Wednesday, November 14, 2018

Xerxes' gold cup

An illuminated gold cup, part of the Megillat Esther Josh and I are producing. Watch the short slideshow (6 slides) of its production, at...

Thursday, November 01, 2018

3 fragments from my notebook

Here's a new post on my blog, Filtered Lights, with 3 fragments: a poem; a parable; an introspection.
You can find it here...

Tuesday, October 16, 2018

Check out the next steps in the illuminated Megillat Esther that Josh and I are producing. Click the link below to see what page 3 will look like, approximately, as well as a photo of Josh, Maddy, and me.

Tuesday, August 21, 2018

Transmigrant Journals, a new story

One of my long term projects is to compile stories of odd events, other-worldly experiences, and strange dreams in a book titled Transmigrant Journals. Here's the opening scene of a story that I'm currently calling "Re-Education".
Read it here...

Tuesday, August 14, 2018

Megillat Esther: Vashti portrait

While Josh is producing pages of text, I'm working on the illuminations. Here's my most recently completed image, a portrait of Vashti, the king's courageous wife who will not be disgraced as a sex object by the crude and drunken king. 

To see the complete slideshow, presenting the portrait's development, please go to Filtered Lights. Here's the link:

Here's one of the images, showing the initial gold work:

Tuesday, August 07, 2018

Mystical musings by the Atternen Ju (Eternal Jew)

The following short excerpt is from a scene in The Atternen Juez Talen. Our hero has recently migrated to Poland (around 1320 CE) to start a new life, yet again. He is reflecting on a line from the daily prayers, that the Master of the Universe daily renews the act of creation (often interpreted to mean that the world, and each individual in it, is created anew each day, or even each moment). Reflecting on his own renewal, he goes off on a riff.

Here is a prose translation into standard English (what I call 'old English'), and then the original text as it was composed...

I, the Eternal Jew am a voice in the streaming world a-coil in you -- a recurring face, a recurring place, unknown, familiar, a recurring embrace. Hate me and I will choke you with hate. Fear me and I will hound you with fear. Love me and I will ignite a desire that consumes but can’t be satisfied ...

To read the whole excerpt, please go to my new blog, Filtered Lights. You will find the post here...

Thursday, August 02, 2018

For those who praise war...

The Eternal Jew hears a noise one morning. At first he thinks its thunder; then an earthquake. Then he realizes, an army is attacking. This scene in The Atternen Juez Talen takes place in approximately 1100CE. First a translation into standard English, and then the original in MetaEnglish. 

And behind the forward shock of noise
The walls of dust that choke your breath
And cloak your face in a deathly mask
So dragoon and drayman, commando and corpse
All look like statues in a Roman tomb.

And this the song them dragoons sung:...

To read the rest of the poem, go to my other blog, Filtered Lights -- A Public Notebook, at