Category: Creativity, Consciousness & The Arts

topographia

The creative arts are a mirror for the Unconscious, reflecting the hidden landscapes of the inner world. Here, we navigate the intersection of creative expression and the Unconscious mind, moving beyond traditional criticism to honor art, film, and music as vital paths of self-inquiry. By engaging with the imaginal, we transform the act of creation into a profound ritual of personal transformation and soul-making.

  • A Terrible Beauty is Born

    A Terrible Beauty is Born

    “… All changed, changed utterly: A terrible beauty is born.”

  • The Birth of Venus

    The Birth of Venus

    What beautiful metaphors. They suggest that if we become conscious of our inner opposites we’ll produce something that contains aspects of each acknowledged part.

  • Generosity

    Generosity

    One effect of the loss of a spiritual True North, Momaday said, was that people would lose traditional cultural principles such as those the Plains Indians lived by: bravery, fortitude, generosity, and virtue.

  • Last Love

    Last Love

    Last Love, I did not see you coming. Forgive me. Last Love, you are my Last Love. Amen.

  • The Guest House

    The Guest House

    This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor.

  • For the Writer

    For the Writer

    Submit to a daily practice. Your loyalty to that is a ring on the door.

  • Love After Love

    Love After Love

    You will love again the stranger who was your self. Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life, whom you ignored.

  • Everything is Waiting for You

    Everything is Waiting for You

    Your great mistake is to act the drama as if you were alone. […] To feel abandoned is to deny the intimacy of your surroundings.

  • For the Weary of Vision

    For the Weary of Vision

    His vision, from the constantly passing bars, has grown so weary that it cannot hold anything else.

  • At the Restaurant

    At the Restaurant

    And there’s your chronic emptiness spiraling upward in search of words.