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A NEW PATH
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We crossed the millennium with
an old black hole gnawing
at our certainties. Attempts to fill the emptiness with more entertainment
and an endless stream of goods have inflicted terrible damage to
the earth, and distorted our souls in the bargain. MTV and Internet
rule, and things fall apart. The family collapses, the community
collapses, values evaporate, cities echo with small arms fire. The
barbarian is not only at the gates, he is inside the gates, and
inside the schools as well. Meanwhile, the rivers and oceans are
poisoned from our waste, the great forests are going--going, ozone
holes leak deadly radiation, and species extinction hits free-fall.
What to do? Govenment keeps pumping up the GNP,
somehow figuring that more Unlimited Growth (which created
this mess) will get us out of it!
This is not your usual end-of-the-century jitters.
Future Shock has unnerved the planet. The great tectonic plates
of civilization are adrift now, and the widening fault lines can
be seen on the evening news every night. The Old Order still rumbles
down the track, but it’s a train out of fuel. Staying the
course now only guarantees disaster, because up ahead the bridge
is out: Capitalism has mutated into vast, uncontrolable multinationals,
while Big Science diverts our attention from its disasters with
illusions of cool breakthrough-fixes just-around-the-corner. And
a young, aggressive techno-elite is fastforwarding us into an
information/genetic revolution which will have absolutely
apocalyptic consequences if played out.
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Painted medicine drum
The Old Advisary
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At this crucial juncture, surely
we can imagine marching to a better drum than a thousand megahertz
Pentium chip! Actually we don't march to that beat, we mentate to
it, staring at cathode-ray screens like this one, washed in cold
light, sliding into the paralyzing coldness of the age,* which is
the coldness of the mind, a crazy patriarchal hardness which has
so numbed the heart that we see but cannot act sensibly, cannot
stop ourselves from cherishing nuclear warheads, or forcing twelve
year--old Burmese farm girls to assemble motherboards in windowless
factories.
Maybe only a whole new take on life will get
us out of this mess. Is it time to think new thoughts? Contemplate
getting off the train? Finding a path that honors the earth and
maybe untangles the heart?
A NEW PATH
We are witness today to the entry of an ancient spiritual vitality
into modern affairs. Call it the River of Sanity--an underground
current which has run through all history, nourishing visionaries
of every tradition...on back finally to megalith builders and
cave painters.
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More than a set of teachings,
it is a profoundly different way of understanding reality, one that
finds affirmation in the frontier discoveries of our own scientific
thought. It is surfacing again now and becoming a genuine parallel
culture. Call it the Afterculture.
or hope...
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River-running meditation place
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...hope
that we have within
our deepest self
powers
not only to change ourselves
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Hi-tension Kiva
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...but to change our culture,
and our world.
The situation demands of us nothing less than
a vast transformation. Our fragile planet cries out for it with
the tongues of the last Mindanao tribesmen, and the Kogi, the
Hopi and the Kung, with the silence of the missing frogs and the
thud of a thousand tropical mahoganies falling every minute. Can
we imagine instead a future where songs are heard drifting in
the twilight? Where great forests rise again? And rivers run clean
and sparkling to the sea, and a million buffalo roam, and people
meet face to face without fear in the marketplace, and children
are secure? And the sacred is part of everyday life? It
seems like a tall order. But maybe it’s only because the
natural order of things seems farfetched now.
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Quantum drum
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Hope: Like the little proto-mammals that appeared
at the end of the Age of Dinosaurs the Afterculture has found its
niche and is evolving and mutating at an extraordinary rate. Drumming
Man, and Woman Who Runs with the Wolves are starting to dance to
the Tao of Physics. Spiritual experience is replacing religion.
Sufis and Jewish Buddhists and Radical Christians find they are
right there on the wavelength together. .
It is evolving a new and powerful “art” completely outside
the art establishment. Functional art.
The art of the Afterculture can be seen most clearly in magical
objects. They empower the speaker in council circles, keep rhythm
for song, and direct prayers at sweat lodges and forest shrines.
Their ritual usages can often be traced back thousands of years.
They often exhibit intriguing connections between sacred traditions,
or link ancient mysticism with quantum physics and chaos theory
These ritual artifacts are being employed by 20th Century men and
women today. As we enter a new millennium, their existence testifies
to a rich new vision of what it means to be a human being.
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Prayerstick
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Box for sweat-lodge implements
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In this new/timeless tradition I have been responsible for stone
circles, teahouses, hogans and a Mazar, painted drums and prayersticks
and Mihrabs and mandalas and duas. Such works are mostly private
matter: ritual objects and places deepen their resonance and power
within a sympathetic circle
But that circle has grown huge now, as a whole
people begin hungering for a richer vision of life than the one
offered by cyberculture.
A compelling idea is born:
A in-gathering of these artifacts
could be a shamanic device for a people
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Emergence - (Hand woven Rug)
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... affirming the EMERGENCE of this "River of Sanity"
to a new nation of pilgrims and searchers,
clarifing its compass headings for the faithful
and open up the possibility of
a future radically different than the
one we are reluctantly blundering into.
Onward!
An installation
A movie
A future
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