The Human Flight from Death: The Driving Force of Civilization

In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of Othering and the Origins of Evil}

The people who follow my writing here know that the concept of my project and book is based on Ernest Becker’s theories of death anxiety and the denial of death. Additionally, Sheldon Solomon, Jeff Greenberg, and Tom Pyszczynski—the creators of terror management theory (TMT) and authors of "The Worm at the Core: On the Role of Death in Life"—have had a significant influence on it.

My objective is to describe or explain these theories in relation to the genocide, removal, and general marginalization of the Tabeguache-Ute (known today as Uncompahgre-Ute) indigenous people. I live on their land in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, U.S.A.

I'm using art to accompany the theories. And I'm also exploring my own dilemma of coming to terms with death. This work is multifaceted, but the main objective is to communicate WHY these kinds of things happen in the world, past and present. Moreover, there are reasons why they will never stop happening.

Death: It’s a difficult topic to talk about, and we’ve evolved to repress and deny it. We've had to psychologically repress this knowledge; if we weren't able to, we would be paralyzed with anxiety and dread. We use culture to do this. All kinds of pursuits help us distract ourselves from thinking about our impeding death, which could happen at any time for any reason, unknown to us. This has a lot more implications than we realize. I recently read an article by John Gray on Substack.com. He is clear, concise, and hits all of the points of both Becker and The Worm at the Core psychologists, Solomon et al.

He wrote:

“An idea of an afterlife emerged along with human beings.

Around 115,000 years ago, graves were being fashioned containing animal bones, flowers, medicinal herbs, and valuables such as ibex horns. By 35,000–40,000 years ago, complete survival kits—food, clothing, and tools—were being placed in graves throughout the world. Humankind is the death-defined animal.

As humans became more self-aware, the denial of death became more insistent. For the American cultural anthropologist and psychoanalytical theorist Ernest Becker (1924–74), the human flight from death has been the driving force of civilization. Fear of death is also the source of the ego, which humans build in order to shield themselves from helpless awareness of their passage through time to extinction.

More than most, Becker’s life was formed by encounters with death. At the age of eighteen, he joined the army and served in an infantry battalion that liberated a Nazi extermination camp.

When he was dying of cancer in hospital in December 1973, he told a visitor, the philosopher Sam Keen: ‘You are catching me in extremis. This is a test of everything I’ve written about death. And I’ve got a chance to show how one dies.’

Becker’s theories were set out in The Denial of Death (1973), for which he received a posthumous Pulitzer Prize in 1974, and developed further in Escape from Evil, which appeared two years after his death.” (John Gray)

“Granite & Quartz Rock, Dead Foxtail, and Purple Thistles,” 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25,4 cm) Reversal Direct Color Print August 12, 2023

In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of Othering and the Origins of Evil

WHAT MY BOOK IS ABOUT
I’ve written a lot about the work I’m doing now. In fact, every essay (on this blog) has some connection to my work, either directly or indirectly. I’m incredibly fortunate to have the time and solitude to do the work, both writing and making photographs. I don’t have to think about anything else. I’ll write more about this later in the essay, but I wanted to share what my book is about. This is just a high-level, simple view of the content.

I’ve been studying and researching the theories of Ernest Becker for several years. His ground-breaking ideas about what drives human behavior got me deeply interested in death anxiety and terror management theory. The crux of my book is about the events of the 19th century and what the colonizers did to the indigenous people here. It’s not really about what they did, but why they did it. The acts of genocide and ethnocide and the psychology of “othering” have preoccupied my interests for decades. I’ve visited the death camps in Europe, and I’ve studied about slavery and atrocities throughout history, from Pol Pot to Darfur and Rawanda. I’ve always wondered why these things happened and where evil came from. I explain what Ernest Becker’s thoughts were and why I agree with them.

This is what my book is about. I unpack these theories in the context of what happened to the Tabegucahe Ute people, the Nuuchui people—the People of the Sun Mountain. I use my photographs to subtly speak to how they lived, the symbols they used, and the land they managed for time immemorial. I also tell my personal story about how a creative life has always been a priority. I explain how these theories have affected me and how this very project is an act to buffer my own existential terror.

They say “Hindsight is 20/20.” It’s true. When we look back at situations, we can see them clearly, unlike at the time they were happening. When I look back at how I spent my time, I realize that most people are preoccupied with making money and paying bills. I know I was, at least for the most part. I can say that I was aware of what was going on, but I couldn’t do much about it. So I made the best of it. I spent 20 years working as a photographer for the American Federal Government and six years serving in the United States Army, three of those years as a photographer.

“The mission of every man is to fulfill the lie he incarnates, to succeed in being no more than an exhausted illusion.”

— Emil Cioran

Our culture is set up as a psychological coping mechanism. In other words, it’s designed to keep you busy and only allow a small amount of “down time” or “thinking time.” Some people get no “down time” or “thinking time.” Their days are full from sunup to sundown. Busy, busy, busy. That’s our motto. It means you’re “doing something.” And “doing something” is preferred over not doing something. Why is that? Well, if you weren’t “doing something,” you would have time to think. Thinking can be dangerous for people. Thinking leads to awareness, or even an awakening. If you are aware or awake, you can see the world for what it is or, more importantly, for what it isn’t. And with that awareness, or awakening, you discover your place in life. You discover the reality of life—what’s important and what’s not. The things I thought were important 20 years ago are meaningless to me today. Some might call that wisdom, but I’m not sure that it’s wisdom. I think there’s a large part of it that is revealed to you as you step away from the cultural constructs. Think about how many Americans are going to wave flags, watch parades and fireworks, eat hot dogs and hamburgers, and drink beer next week. They will do it almost as a reflex, as a “we’re supposed to do this” kind of thing. It’s a cultural construct that millions of Americans lean on to bolster their self-esteem. It buffers death anxiety. This is what Becker lays out so clearly in The Denial of Death. This is what his theories are based on. Understanding the cultural constructs in which we live and the reasoning behind them—once you understand these theories, you can not only live a more full life, rich in awe, gratitude, and humility—awe, humility, and gratitude effectively mitigate death anxiety—but a more authentic life.

Bottom line: You can reduce the anxiety and the neurosis that accompany the existential dread that we all face. I’m addressing these ideas in my book. I’m also showing how a creative life deals with death anxiety and what it means to create.

IN THE SHADOW OF SUN MOUNTAIN: THE PSYCHOLOGY OF OTHERING AND THE ORIGINS OF EVIL
My book has two main goals. Firstly, it aims to shed light on the significant impact of theories concerning the fear of mortality on human behavior. Effectively illustrating how a particular historical event serves as an illustration of death anxiety and terror management theory achieves this. The central focus of this work is the genocide and ethnocide of the Tabeguache Ute Native American tribe, who once flourished on the land I currently reside on in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. By examining these psychological frameworks, the underlying causes and inevitability of such atrocities become apparent. Secondly, this book seeks to outline how my own creative pursuits have reflected these theories.

I’ve written a biography of my creative life. In that, I’ve included events in my life that served as death reminders and how I became aware of my own mortality at eight years old. I’ve included how these questions have been a central theme in my photographic work for over 30 years. As I’ve written this out, I've connected the dots about how I’ve mitigated my own death anxiety using art.

A Painterly Desire

I’m reading about Otto Rank’s take on creativity. How a creative life can buffer death anxiety and how there is a dark side to the theory as well. I’m writing about a lot of this in the introduction to my book.

“Rank asked why the artist so often avoids clinical neurosis when he is so much a candidate for it because of his vivid imagination, his openness to the finest and broadest aspects of experience, his isolation from the cultural worldview that satisfies everyone else. The answer is that he takes in the world, but instead of being oppressed by it he reworks it in his own personality and recreates it in the work of art.”

— Ernest Becker discussing Otto Rank in The Denial of Death

The evolution of this project has been enormous. The journey has taken an organic and authentic path to what I feel is the best work and the biggest contribution I’ve made in my creative life. I talk to my wife frequently about how few people “get this” or are interested in it. We have conversations about what that means or doesn't mean.

For me, it plays no role in my ambition and desire to make the work and offer it to the world. I have to do it. I can feel the effects of the work in my own life. I see photography and art in such a different way now. I see life and human behavior in a new and different way. I feel like I’ve grown and evolved immensely while making this work—it’s humbling and awesome.

I know I would have a larger audience for the project if I paid more attention to social media and marketing. I just don’t have that in me, and I couldn’t care less about it, to be completely honest. However, I do want people to engage with these ideas and my work. Maybe it’s for a different time or a different place. I’m not sure and can’t be bothered with that now. I just need to do the work and keep writing and thinking. I’m so grateful to have the time, health, and energy to do this. I’m thankful beyond words to live a life like this. I do appreciate those who read my essays and rants. I truly appreciate the feedback and the conversations I’ve had because of this project and posting these essays. Thank you. It means a lot to me. You know who you are.

“Rocky Mountain Raspberry Flower and Mullein in a Glass Graduate,” 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25,4 cm), June 10, 2023, RA-4 Color Reversal Print (direct positive, in camera, no negative).

I’ve always said that I’m a frustrated painter. I’ve been experimenting with the technical aspects of the RA-4 reversal process (direct color prints) to reflect that desire. I have a filter pack that I’ve dialed in to compensate for the RA-4 color paper. I use my old Petzval lenses for all of these images, and between that old glass and my exposure times, I can get very painterly-looking images. I truly love them. My filter pack and this high-altitude light render black as red or reddish-magenta. The Rocky Mountain Raspberry plants started flowering the other day, and I knew they wouldn’t be around very long, so I crafted a scene where I could have a “painterly” background and isolate that beautiful white flower. I am very pleased with the results. I really love the “apocalyptic” sky in the one print too. The process reveals such wonderful renditions of the flora here.

I’ll continue to work over the summer. I plan on making several landscape images as well as some fauna prints. I’ll continue to work with the flora as the new season brings life to the mountain.

“Rocky Mountain Raspberry Flower and Mullein in a Glass Graduate,” 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25,4 cm), June 10, 2023, RA-4 Color Reversal Print (direct positive, in camera, no negative).

My Plans: Spring, Summer & Autumn 2023

“The bitter medicine he prescribes — contemplation of the horror of our inevitable death — is , paradoxically , the tincture that adds sweetness to mortality .”

— Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death (foreword)

Winter in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado is not over yet, but my mind is already thinking ahead to spring, summer, and autumn. I’m starting to make plans to work on my project again. It’s not too far off, and I’m excited to start making photographs again.

In the winter, I go into "photographic hibernation." I shut down the studio and darkroom, and I only go into the building (maybe) once a month to check on things. I thought it would drive me insane not to be able to create images all winter. I’ve found quite the opposite. In fact, I would recommend taking a break from the craft and working on the concept with no distractions—it’s been a great way for me to see, with more clarity and purpose, what I’m trying to do. I think I’m making my best work by writing for a few months and making images for a few months. I've found that time is the greatest asset when creating work like this. I've never had such distraction-free time before, and I'm beyond grateful for it. Rollo May said, “Absorption, being caught up in, wholly involved, and so on, are used commonly to describe the state of the artist or scientist when creating or even a child at play. By whatever name one calls it, genuine creativity is characterized by and intensity of awareness, a heightened consciousness.“

In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of “Othering” (example book cover)

My book, In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of “Othering”, is going to be my "magnum opus." I’m not saying that it will be my final body of work, but it will completely close this chapter of inquiry for me. It’s literally a body of work, both written and photographed, that examines questions that I’ve wrestled with for over 30 years of my life. It’s a big deal to me, and I hope it resonates with a few other people. I know it’s a difficult topic to get people interested in; it’s not something that’s addressed much, but it should be. That’s the very point of this work. Through the historical events of the 19th century, I’m telling the story of “othering” (xenophobia) and what happened to the Tabeguache Utes that lived on the land where I now live.

This is not a body of work that documents the Tabeguache Utes, but explores the land, plants, objects, and symbols they used here. My objective is to explore the denial of death and the negative consequences it bears when it’s not directed in a positive, non-destructive way. This book will address why things like this happen and will continue to happen. I feel like it’s a unique blend of art, history, and psychology that applies to every human being and all human behavior.

Making art, especially a large body of work on a specific topic, is an interesting process to go through. I’ve done it several times in my life, but this is different. As I just mentioned, this is the culmination of all of my previous work. It reveals answers to the questions I’ve been asking for so long. It feels like I’ve worked on smaller projects to warm up for this. I’m beyond excited about all of it.

I'm not sure what the next chapter of my life will bring. I’m not even sure it will be photography. I find my interest in traditional photography waning. Don’t misunderstand me; I love photography, but my interest is waning in how it’s being used today and how it’s changed over the years. Even the purpose of working with historic processes (something that should be very special) has turned into something that I don’t recognize and have no interest in. Everything feels exploited and commodified to me.

“Absorption, being caught up in, wholly involved, and so on, are used commonly to describe the state of the artist or scientist when creating or even a child at play. By whatever name one calls it, genuine creativity is characterized by and intensity of awareness, a heightened consciousness.”

— Rollo May

It seems that most people working in these processes are firmly rooted in commercial work or are immersed in constant technical talk about processes and equipment (I’ve written several essays on this topic). There seems to be so little real output of expression or ideas using these processes. To be honest, it bores me to death; I have nothing left to say about it. So whatever I do next, I'll be prepared for it. If it involves photography, it won’t be commercially based or solely technical—it will be personal and expressive. It'll come to me naturally and organically, just like this work and my previous work have.

PLANS FOR THIS YEAR
For 2023, I’m going to continue to work on the “flora” portion of my project. I have several more plants I want to photograph as well as try some new approaches to making these images. There are quite a few landscape images I’m after, and I'll attempt some “fauna” work as well. I’ll continue to work it out and discover new ways to communicate these ideas semiotically.

I’m still very much in "creation mode" for the project—work, work, work—meaning that I’ll spend a few months editing a lot of photographs (about 200 images) and deciding what best represents my ideas for the concepts. I’m sitting on about 130 negatives from the work I did last year (2022). These are wet and dry collodion negatives, as well as paper negatives (calotypes). I have about 30 to 40 photogenic drawing prints and cyanotypes, too. I’ll have several print-out-processes to select from as well. Different negatives print differently in various P.O.P. processes. Even the paper selection can make a big difference. It's a lot of work, but it's also a lot of fun.

This year, I plan to do another 100–125 negatives plus several photogenic drawings and cyanotypes. I want a large variety to work with. The book will have between 75 and 100 images. To get that, I’ll need about 200 images to edit from. They will vary in process, too. There will be palladiotypes, kallitypes, salt prints, gelatin and collodion aristotypes, cyanotypes, Rawlins oil prints, and photogenic drawing prints. The substrate and execution will vary too. I’m going to try to make some very interesting images involving both content and process. They will be unique and, hopefully, engaging and interesting. That’s the goal. I want the visuals to connect with and represent the writing (concept) of the work more than anything else.

I’m thinking that this year’s work won’t be shared online. As much as I like sharing the work, I think I may keep this second year to myself. When I publish the book, I want most of the images to be "new" to the viewers. I think that seeing the photographs in the book with all of the text available adds more power to the concept. I hope those interested will stay tuned for the book. It will be worth the wait, I promise.

MY THOUGHTS ON SHARING, & SOCIAL MEDIA
I enjoy sharing work with people online. Most of the time, it’s a very positive experience. It builds community and is generally a positive thing. I try to stay away from the contentious stuff and just share with those that are interested. That will change somewhat over the coming year and the rest of this work. I’ll explain why.

I’ll continue to publish essays here (on my blog) over the coming year. This is like a public journal for me. I “exercise” stuff from my mind here; it’s cathartic for me. Sometimes, I’ll even come back to it to find something I’ve written about or a reference. It’s a good thing for me. And to those that read it, thank you, and thanks for the positive and kind words about it. So what about social media?

Social media has a tight grip on all of us—too much control over our personal, artistic, and creative lives. Too much influence is placed on what people will "like" or not, and the number of “likes.” Why do we put so much weight on social media? We want those dopamine hits! I get it.

Beyond that, there's surveillance capitalism and the data these large corporations are gathering on us via these platforms—it's intrusive and scary! We give it to them freely and ignorantly. Every Facebag survey you take on "What Kind of Potato Are You?" (or some other ridiculous thing) is simply getting more information about you to sell you stuff that you don’t need. These platforms are constantly encouraging people to compare themselves to each other (especially dangerous for young people). And the algorithms determine what will keep you scrolling for hours on end—so-called doom scrolling—and then feed it to you on an endless loop.

There’s so much negativity on these platforms. That alone should keep us away, but it doesn’t. The arguing and fighting over who is the best and smartest, as well as the "experts" shouting down, belittling, and degrading others, and the cultural and political squabbles, are heartbreaking. It's exactly what I read about and write about every day—existential uncertainty—and this is how people deal with the anxiety.

I see a lot of (malignant) narcissism on these platforms as well: “filtered selfies” and great lifestyles that are all fake. I get that people use it to bolster their self-esteem—life is difficult and frightening, and the knowledge of our impending death (death anxiety) drives us to deny it and act out this way—and social media assists in doing exactly that. In his book The Denial of Death, Ernest Becker said, "But it is too all-absorbing and relentless to be an aberration; it expresses the heart of the creature: the desire to stand out, to be the one in creation. When you combine natural narcissism with the basic need for self-esteem, you create a creature who has to feel himself an object of primary value: first in the universe, representing in himself all of life."

Every day, people post something that says, in essence, "Please like me and validate my existence; I seek meaning and significance." This is what Becker talks about constantly in his books. I wish there was a viable alternative. When I first started the Collodion Forum Board in 2003, there was a great community there. It lasted for a few years. People were courteous, kind, and generous with their knowledge and information. It didn’t have all of the negative aspects that we see on social media today (photo groups and egos). A lot of people working in wet collodion today got their start there - in fact most of them. Times change, and we move on. I wax nostalgic.

I think I can convince people that there are better and healthier ways to bolster their self-esteem. My book has nothing to do with "self-help,” but it will talk about ways to deal with death anxiety without being so self-centered and destructive.

There are some positive things about social media (very few things), but as a whole, the liabilities outweigh any of the good or positive things. I want to break the rules and try something different, like not sharing everything I make. How novel is that?

MOUNTAIN LIVING & SOLITUDE
I’ve had a few months of writing and time to lay out the book for its first iteration. So far, I feel great about what I’ve written. The writing has really allowed me to think about the photographs I want to make. This time has been priceless in that way. I write every day, seven days a week, some days more than others, but I still write. And I read every day, too. I’m always looking for books, films, music, and art in general that may have some connection to these ideas. I take in a wide variety of information; it seems to help me make the connections I need to write about these theories. I’ve written a lot about being fully aware of how I’m using art and creativity to buffer my own anxiety. I would go even farther and say that I’m not only buffering the anxiety, I’m feeding off of it. In other words, I’m using existential terror creatively in my favor. I feel like I'm getting one over on my own death awareness.

“I am losing precious days. I am degenerating into a machine for making money. I am learning nothing in this trivial world of men. I must break away and get out into the mountains to learn the news. ”

— John Muir

This June (2023), we will begin our third year of living on the mountain. Living up here has definitely changed me. Maybe it’s the mountain air, the isolation, the peace and quiet, being close to nature and the wildlife, or a combination of all of it. Whatever it is, it’s had a big impact on how I view the world. It’s allowed me to see what’s important and what’s not. What I actually need and don't need, as well as the ability to say "no," sounds trite and cliche to say, but it’s true.

Time away from a toxic culture that influences your life without your knowledge resets your mind; it changes you. Living in cities and suburbs directs your life to the point where you become something you don't want to be: a conspicuous consumer—not just a consumer, but someone who is always looking for the next thing to buy, have, or be, endlessly seeking satisfaction but never receiving it. The big ontological question is: If we have everything, why aren’t we happy?

My changes are positive, fulfilling, and meaningful to me. I'm forever grateful to be here; we love this mountain. And I’m filled with gratitude to spend my days thinking about the human (paradoxical) condition, art, photography, and how to live each day of my life in the best way possible.

BY THE END OF 2023…
My hope is that by the end of this year, I’ll be going through prints and making selections for the book. I feel like I can have the writing mostly completed by the spring. There will be refinement and editing, but the bulk of it will be completed by June. I’ll work on it periodically throughout the year and have a final edit done by an outside resource.

Included in the book is an extensive autobiography. In fact, the second chapter, The Introduction, is where I write extensively about how my life (artistic and creative) unfolded and put me where I am now. It was an “eye-opener” to me. I think any artist or photographer will appreciate reading about my journey.

I’ve incorporated art, psychology, history, anthropology, theology, philosophy, sociology, and other disciplines to accomplish what I’ve set out to do with this book. I've had to combine all of the disciplines and theories in order to explain them so that people like me, a layperson, can understand them. I wanted the writing to be simple and understandable, not academic. It’s been a big chore, but it’s working.

The interdisciplinary approach to this work is critical. It truly supports the ideas in ways that one or two areas couldn’t. My goal is to make the art and my expression of these ideas the central theme. I want the photographs to act as a catalyst for understanding the psychology of "othering."

I feel like we don’t acknowledge the psychological underpinnings of photography enough. It’s easy to get academic about it, and again, I don’t want that. I want an authentic connection between the images and the psychology that they represent. So far, I feel very good about what I’ve accomplished. Let’s see what this year brings.

“We are all in search of a feeling more connected to reality... We indulge in drugs and alcohol, or engage in dangerous sports or risky behavior, just to wake ourselves up from the sleep of our daily existence and feel a heightened sense of connection to reality. In the end, the most satisfying and powerful way to feel this connection is through creativity. Engaged in the creative process we feel more alive than ever, because we are making something and not merely consuming, Masters of the small reality we create.”

— Robert Greene, Mastery

Chapter By Chapter-Chapter 3 Death Anxiety

Chapter 3: Death Anxiety—This chapter is based on Ernest Becker’s book, "The Denial of Death." The book is quite dense and academically written, but it’s one of the best books I’ve ever read. It literally changed my life.

It’s my burden to unpack the ideas that Becker puts forth and present them to the reader in a way that makes sense and is applicable to their lives. I’ll also show the direct connection between the photographic work and the psychology behind these theories.

I’m writing and organizing, and then rewriting and reorganizing. There are two chapters detailing how these theories work and the underlying psychology. They are: death anxiety and terror management theory.

What is death anxiety? In a few words, it's the desire to stay alive that is in direct conflict, psychologically speaking, with the reality and knowledge that we will die. This causes a sort of cognitive dissonance; it creates unbearable anxiety, terror, and dread. We do everything we can to deny and avoid thinking about our death.

The human animal isn’t terrified of dying—not of the actual moment of death—but of being impermanent (mortal) and dying without significance. Impermanence and insignificance are what create existential terror. That’s what’s unbearable. And this comes from consciousness—the knowledge that we're here. Soren Kierkegaard (1833–1855), a 19th-century Danish philosopher, said that humans can "render themselves the object of their own subjective inquiry." Think about that! That's our big forebrain in action. And psychoanalyst Otto Rank said humans have the capacity "to make the unreal real." This intelligence is a big part of the problem we face. Some think that consciousness is an evolutionary mistake and that we, like all other animals, shouldn’t be aware of our impending deaths.

However, we’ve evolved to cope with this burden by suppressing that death awareness knowledge through self-esteem and using culture. We create “immortality projects.” According to Becker, fear—or denial—of death is a fundamental motivator behind why we do what we do.

Becker said that the real world is simply too terrible to admit. If we didn't have ways of buffering the fear, anxiety, and helplessness over our death and meaninglessness, it would paralyze us and keep us from getting out of bed in the morning. So there is a need to repress it. We use what Becker and all anthropologists call "culture" or "cultural worldview." This "cultural worldview" is a shared reality that we all believe in or subscribe to—a value and belief system that comes from our culture. We find self-esteem through this cultural worldview.

For example, our culture tells us that having a job and getting promotions is a good thing, as is earning more money, driving a certain type of car, or dressing a certain way. If we do these things, our self-esteem is strengthened, and we have a defense or coping mechanism to repress the anxiety that comes from knowing we are going to die. These buffers can be good or bad. That’s why it’s important to be conscious of these ideas and the psychology behind them. Like Freud said, "Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life, and you will call it fate." We can get ourselves out of it by being explicitly aware that we’re in it. Albert Camus said, “…come to terms with death; thereafter, anything is possible." This is the crux of why I'm writing this book and doing this work.

Culture, or cultural worldviews, are defense mechanisms against the knowledge that we will die. Becker argues that humans live in both a physical world of objects and a symbolic world of meaning. The symbolic part of human life engages in what Becker calls an "immortality project." People try to create or become part of something they believe will last forever—art, music, literature, religion, nation-states, social and political movements, etc. Such connections, they believe, give their lives meaning.

Kierkegaard talked about this dread-evoking mystery. He believed that anxiety comes from our knowledge of finitude and meaninglessness. Becker concurs with this point and expounds on it. Kierkegaard said that humans focus their attention on small tasks and diversions that have the illusion of significance—activities that keep people going. If they dwell on the situation too long, they'll bog down and be at risk of releasing their neurotic fear that they are impotent in the world.

That’s a small portion that I’m working on now. You’ll see, in the end, how this all connects to every war, every act of genocide, and every act of evil in the world. Why it happened and why it continues to happen—again, this is the energy of the book, to help people become conscious of this predicament.

Qualia & Art: My Definition

QUALIA - “THE MOLYNEUX PROBLEM”
What defines art as art is the ongoing question we wrestle with. How do people react to it, and why do they react in the manner that they do? What senses do they use to experience art? What are they inwardly processing and projecting onto the artwork? Finally, what can, or can’t, they perceive? These are significant and ambiguous questions. Some of these queries can be answered to some extent by the theory of qualia. And if you research this concept, you might be able to potentially apply it to your work. At least in some indirect way.

The first time I heard about qualia was in a story about a girl called Molly. She was born blind. She never saw a shape or color in her life. For years, she carried around a die and a marble. She thought they brought her good luck. When she was older, the doctors performed corneal lens surgery, and she was able to see.

The die and marble were placed before her, and she wasn’t able to identify either one. She had never seen these objects before; she only had the internal experience of feeling and touching them. It sounds strange that the shapes weren’t obvious to her; she had carried these objects for years. If you are sighted, you would have never experienced this phenomenon. It shows that what we perceive internally versus externally can be very different. This is the age-old question of qualia and how we know what we know.

Qualia: n. ( sing. quale) 1. characteristics or qualities that determine the nature of a mental experience (sensation or perception) and make it distinguishable from other such experiences, so that, for example, the experiencer differentiates between the sensations of heat and cold.

Plate #124 - “Ute Lodge” whole-plate wet collodion negative.

Qualia are the subjective or qualitative properties of experiences. What it feels like, experientially, to see a red rose is different from what it feels like to see a yellow rose. Likewise, hearing a musical note played by a piano and hearing the same musical note played by a tuba. The qualia of these experiences are what give each of them their characteristic “feel” and also what distinguishes them from one another. Qualia have traditionally been thought to be intrinsic qualities of experience that are directly available to introspection. However, some philosophers offer theories of qualia that deny one or both of those features. (Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy)

This is a very interesting topic as it relates to art and photography specifically. As I said above, the question we’re always asking is what makes art, Art? How do people respond to it and why do they respond a certain way? Qualia can start to answer some of these questions. And, if you study these ideas, you may be able to incorporate them into your practice, at least theoretically.

What is the qualia argument?
It rests on the idea that someone who has complete physical knowledge about another conscious being might yet lack knowledge about how it feels to have the experiences of that being. It is one of the most discussed arguments against physicalism.

Qualia as phenomenal character. Consider your visual experience as you stare at a bright turquoise color patch in a paint store. There is something it is like for you subjectively to undergo that experience. What it is like to undergo the experience is very different from what it is like for you to experience a dull brown color patch. This difference is a difference in what is often called ‘phenomenal character’. The phenomenal character of an experience is what it is like subjectively to undergo the experience. If you are told to focus your attention upon the phenomenal character of your experience, you will find that in doing so you are aware of certain qualities. These qualities—ones that are accessible to you when you introspect and that together make up the phenomenal character of the experience are sometimes called ‘qualia’. C.S. Peirce seems to have had something like this in mind when he introduced the term ‘quale’ into philosophy in 1866 (1866/1982, para 223). From the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.

INTROSPECTION
Introspection is the process by which someone comes to form beliefs about their own mental states. We might form the belief that someone else is happy on the basis of perception—for example, by perceiving their behavior. But a person typically does not have to observe their own behavior in order to determine whether they are happy. Rather, one makes this determination by introspecting.

When compared to other beliefs that we have, the beliefs that we acquire through introspection seem epistemically special. Though the term “introspection” literally means “looking within” (from the Latin “spicere” meaning “to look” and “intra” meaning “within”), whether introspecting should be treated analogously to looking – that is, whether introspection is a form of inner perception – is debatable. Philosophers have offered both observational and non-observational accounts of introspection. Following the discussion of these various issues about the epistemology and nature of introspection, the third section of this essay addresses an important use to which introspection has been put in philosophical discussions, namely, to draw metaphysical conclusions about the nature of mind. (IEP)

APPLYING QUALIA TO ART (PHOTOGRAPHY) - TRANSCENDENT ART
What does this all mean in terms of looking at and experiencing photographs? This is where words really do fall short. You can’t write about something like this very well. It’s a very personal, intimate experience that you “feel” more than you see.

Think of the feeling of love or the private pleasure of watching a sunset as examples of qualia that make their way into the domain of our conscious awareness. We try to describe them even if we can't. When words fail us, we turn to making photographs and prints, painting, sculpting, creating musical compositions, and a variety of other artistic mediums to express ourselves.

So, the preservation of the artist's own qualia must come first in their artistic endeavors. Inspiration comes suddenly and transcends time and space. It must be honored and kept in order for the location of its origin to be visited in the future, even if it will never happen again. I try to keep qualia at the forefront of my mind when exploring ideas for an image. I try to stay conscious of when I experience this and then act on it as quickly as possible. In the end, I know I only share a shadow of the qualia I experienced, but, to some extent, it is preserved in the images that I make. It is, in fact, second-hand qualia. That’s all it can ever be.

It’s up for debate whether or not some qualia ought to be retained. The question of whether art is successful or "good" is unaffected by whether it is enjoyable or unpleasant to experience. For instance, all it takes is a quick glance at one of Vincent Van Gogh's self-portraits for someone to feel what it feels like to be so depressed that they amputate their own ear.

Immortalize your qualia, that’s the goal. Transcended art is what qualia refers to-getting the closest we can to the most intimate experience in creating art and showing it the best way we know how. That’s the definition of qualia to me.

Plate #124 - “Ute Lodge” whole-plate toned cyanotype from a wet collodion negative.

Mt Evans & Squaw Pass Day Trip

Jeanne and I spent yesterday in the thin air of the Colorado mountains. The temp was 99F/38C in the city (Denver) and 50F/10C at the top of Mt Evans. It is 14,000 feet/4.000m above sea level. It started to sleet/slush/rain when we were at the top. It's the monsoon season, so you have to go early. We'll leave the studio next Saturday morning at 0600. That will give us several good hours of making photographs.

The place is stunning and mind boggling all at once. We drove the longest/highest paved road in North America to get there. The drive was fun! A lot of it looks like what I would imagine some distant planet might resemble. Very few plants or animals can survive at that elevation - no trees - only small plants and grass. It's brutal! Jeanne and I were climbing over over some huge rocks to do some photos and I was instantly winded. There's not much oxygen at 14,000 feet. It freaked me out a little bit. I need to remember to move slower next Saturday.

The Collodion was thicker and dried faster up there. The UV was off of the charts. I was making exposures of one to three seconds with my lens stopped down to f/7 and f/22 respectively. My face got sunburned too. I thought living at 5,200 ft was intense, at 11,000 and 14,000 the sun seems overwhelming. It would be nice to work with f/32 and f/64 that way, you could do several second exposures and make some really nice photographs. One more thing, I was using old Collodion, too. I'm not sure you could get an exposure there with new Collodion unless you had a shutter. Stop action Collodion photography at 14,000 feet! 

It costs $10 to enter - well worth every penny!

Quinn stunned at the beauty of Squaw Pass - 11,500 ft. photo by Jeanne Jacobson.

 Looking over Squaw Pass - 11,500 ft - unbelievably beautiful.

On the other side - Squaw Pass, 11,500 ft.

If you look close, you can see the mountain sheep eating at the patches of grass and relaxing as an (almost) snow/sleet storm comes in - it feels like Mars at the top.

Quinn and Jeanne at the top of Mount Evans!! Quick, get us some oxygen!!
Colorado has some Bristlecones that are almost 2000 years old! The Bristlecone pine tree is the oldest single living organism on earth. It has the ability to live up to 5000 years. This is in Goliath Park.