Alive and Ensouled

Following a week that modulated between the trivial and the tragic, we turn our attention to a brief excerpt from Per Espen Stoknes’ remarkable Landscapes of Soul, dating from 1996, in which he tracks various myths of apocalypse, wildness and the city through history and human psychology.

We are grateful to DP correspondent Allen S. Weiss for directing our gaze to the work of Herbert Pföstl; two images below.









Pföstl offers the following vita:

painter of animals, plants, and saints.

what is collected here in fields of broken color, excavated text, and tones of concealment are signs and relics; ordered as paper memorials to stones and plants, to animals and saints.

emblems of landscapes and lives gone from this world. they are laid side by side with care, almost botanically, and mostly on paper that is rarely larger than a page in an old book.

there is no wish to simulate or eclipse nature. embracing a slow alchemy of things, in drama without movement, these histories of last walks, epiphanies, and petitions are fragmentary by principle; their harmonies structured in silence.


We will explore his exceptional body of work more thoroughly in a future DP.

Small Talk of Swallows

During times when the lethal addiction of human supremacism becomes ever more acute, we turn to the regrettably departed (2018) philosopher Mary Midgley with her response to the question, “What does it mean to be human?” Her title: On Not Needing To Be Omnipotent.

Images are from the studio of Olive Ayhens, with prophetic visions of New York City that date from the 1990s.






EDGE CITY (1997)





In closing, a poem by Ursula Le Guin within which we found this week’s title phrase:



With or without us, there will be the silence…



An Exuberant Multiplicity

A rate of extinction estimated at “up to 100 times higher than the background rate” should provide adequate motivation to reconsider the deep ruts of human supremacism.

A DP correspondent steered us to an excellent online resource curated by the Center For Humans and Nature, including essays from a wide range of writers and thinkers invited in response to a series of key questions such as “What does it mean to be human?”

David Abram begins his response with a quote from Robinson Jeffers: “I have fallen in love outward.” Further excerpts below, with images from an Art & Extinction series by the Irish artist Diarmuid Delargy.








In a Postscript, Abram adds:



What ails us can also obliterate us; extinction events slowly but surely work themselves up the food chain to the alpha predators. In this progression, our connection to and dependence on the whole of life will become painfully evident.


The Jeffers poem also spins these lines forth from the mind of Cassandra, o force of the earth rising:

Plant the earth with javelins? It made laws for all men, it dissolved like a cloud.
I have also stood watching a storm of wild swans
Rise from one river-mouth . . . O force of the earth rising,
O fallings of the earth: forever no rest, not forever
From the wave and the trough, from the stream and the slack,
from growth and decay: O vulture-
Pinioned, my spirit, one flight yet, last, longest, unguided,
Try into the gulf,
Over Greece, over Rome, you have space O my spirit for the years 



House On Fire

As at COP24, that shamefully inert gathering inside a former Polish coal mine towards the end of last year, the only person who made any sense whatsoever during the annual Davos Festival of the Exalted Egos: Greta Thunberg, as she broke the stupefying complacency with a concise call for urgent action towards the creation of a radically new political and economic paradigm.

The panel to which Thunberg had been invited had been scheduled to discuss “Responses to Climate Disruption”. She rejected that theme out of hand, and instead held a roomful of leather-loafered feet to the fire. Much media hubbub was generated by an economic historian who dared to suggest that the world’s ultrarich should pay their fair share of taxes; Greta’s words were treated as if someone had released a methane burp beneath the lavish buffet table.

Excerpts below, with images from a series of Scorched Earth paintings by Lynn Christine Kelly.











We took note of a quote from Hermann Hesse used by Lynn Kelly on her home page, relayed below:



There is the heart of the new paradigm,

in the heart of the trees, now scorched:

the ancient law of life.



Nothing Goes One Way

Slightly over a year ago, Ursula Le Guin returned her vibrational richness to the universe. Below, a transcript of remarks delivered as the keynote for a 2014 conference, with a video link as well. Her words and her voice, raised on behalf of the whole of life, resonate more strongly and urgently with each passing day.





Our brutal reign as Lords of Creation is swiftly coming to an end; let us seek fresh connections to the whole of life.


Listen to the Mountains

This week we welcome the publication of a new book by the experienced environmental journalist Dahr Jamail, The End of Ice.

As climate “change” accelerates into climate breakdown, much of the data referenced by Jamail is already obsolete in a book published just last week, with new data implying significantly worse impacts than at the time of his writing. Yet Jamail most definitely walks the walk, or in his case — as a lifelong mountaineer — climbs the climb; his knowledge of dramatic changes in glacier ecology is intimate, deep, up front and personal. In the end, his love for the mountains calls him to draw the line and take a stand.

An excerpt from the book’s introduction below, with images of iced flowers from the studio of Azuma Makoto.









Such is the present moment:

Where do we draw the line?

Where do we take a stand?


On Behalf of the Crushed

During a week when the most mindless power struggles distract attention from fresh evidence of a climate breakdown endgame for which few are prepared, we turn to a lucid essay by Costica Bradatan, author of Dying For Ideas: The Dangerous Lives of Philosophers. The essay is worthy of close reading in its entirety; excerpts below, with images from the studio of Richard Kurtz, whose sublime visions are on display this weekend at the NYC Outsider Art Fair.
















The next sentence in the cited text from Simone Weil strikes us as even more important:

“Unless one has placed oneself on the side of the oppressed, to feel with them, one cannot understand.”

Among the oppressed, we would include the countless non-human species of life that disappear each day from the biosphere. Do we really think that we are exempt from the rhythm of erasure, incarnate within the Sixth Extinction?


Let us place ourselves

on the side of all life forms facing elimination

as a result of toxic human supremacism. 

Only then will we be able to navigate

with deepest humility

into a viable future.




Living At the Edge

Now comes Jem Bendell, whose paper on Deep Adaptation: A Map for Navigating Climate Tragedy has had a significant impact on discussions regarding how we respond to anthropogenic climate breakdown and chaos. Below, we excerpt from a January 9 posting that focuses on reconceiving what we might hope for, and why.













Not Broken Yet

We begin our 2019 navigations with excerpts from a 2017 interview with Deep Ecologist Joanna Macy. Images are untitled ink drawings from the studio of Julie Mehretu.












Things Visible and Invisible