Modern existence seems to always be in a ceaseless flux, in which any meaningful human endeavor seems marred by tides of disillusionment. Thus, I often find myself adrift. I’m caught between the ephemeral beauty of creation and the stark realities of a world that grows ever more cynical. The complexities of our era, with its…
If Elizabeth Bishop is a cartographer of the visible, then Robert Creeley is a geometer of the felt. One sketches every ridge; the other just the angle of the slope. Their poetic modes may seem like opposites on the surface—Bishop’s obsessive clarity versus Creeley’s elliptical sparseness—but together they reveal something crucial: the power of poetic…
If we want to define a Neo-Modernist (or what I like to call post-postmodernist orientation), we’ll need shared terms for epistemological fatigue, spiritual data hoarding, authenticity glitches, narrative refusal, and meta-compassion fatigue. To this end I started the Ineffable Index, as I develop terms to help me anchor some concepts in name which are otherwise…
“We also know how cruel the truth often is, and we wonder whether delusion is not more consoling.” – Henri Poincare Oh, delusion is far more consoling than inconvenient truths and cruel realities! I’ve given into more than a few delusions in my day. It’s a self-defense mechanism, and I likely wouldn’t be here without…