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Watching David Lynch’s first film, Eraserhead, in a 1980s vintage West Los Angeles theatre was a paradigm shifter. For a twenty-something from the rural American South, a heightened sense of boundless creativity soaked into me in that threadbare movie house and changed my newly acquired urban trajectory. Lynch’s connection with the fecund space of infinity
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An 8:39 discovery of joy through the inner play of limits
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Underwater silence. I know the sound from being tethered to the bottom of a lake once but now it’s directly threatening. The rush of fear constricting my chest yanks the vagus nerve running up my neck. Too close to the reptilian connection that hearing has to survival, my amygdala gets defensive and rakes a dull
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The time-aging hack: implement new and diverse experiences that feed into the brain’s thirst for a variety of images which it triggers its conflation of the pictures with increments of time. Today is my birthday so it won’t be a surprise that I’ve focused this post on aging and time. I feel anxiety about the
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When I left South America the gates to the world were opened to a post-pandemic United States. I stepped off the plane with the intention of rediscovering my country. People were still socially distanced, an after-shock we all went through as we continued to engage in six feet of space between us. Whereas when I
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Where do the Conscious and Unconscious Meet? It all begins with zero. I had a moment way back when my son was little and still sweet that epitomizes the gap between the basement and the ground floor level of awareness. We had just moved back to California when I reached this place I call Metaphysical Sublimity.
Auguste Hill 