Writing My Book and Telling My Stories

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

I wanted to share an update about my book. I’m excited about it!

I devote daily time to writing, reading, researching, making art, and most of all, thinking.

So far, my book breaks down something like this:

1
Introduction and Artist Statement
This chapter sets the stage for the book, explaining its purpose and relevance. It addresses some key questions. What is the book about, and why should a person read it? I introduce the themes, goals, and personal motivations driving this work. I also include my artist statement. It lays the foundation for the art itself, both technically and conceptually.

2
A Phenomenological Autobiography
Through personal stories, I explore how my life experiences have shaped my creative journey. This chapter demonstrates the deep connection between my artistic drive and the existential questions addressed by Becker's theories and Terror Management Theory (TMT). By connecting my own narrative to these frameworks, I provide insight into how creativity becomes a response to death anxiety or existential anxiety.

3
Ernest Becker
In this chapter, I delve into Becker’s groundbreaking theories, the denial of death and death anxiety. I supplement these with insights from anthropology, psychology, philosophy, theology, and art. I explain Becker's concept of the origins of evil, examining its definition and mechanisms, and scrutinizing the frequent attempts by humanity to eradicate perceived evil through acts of evil, using violence and dehumanization (oh, the irony!).

4
Terror Management Theory (TMT)
This chapter focuses on TMT and its relationship to Becker’s ideas, with a specific case study: the Tabeguache Ute Indians. I analyze how European colonizers used othering (Manifest Destiny) to justify acts of genocide and ethnocide against Native Americans, demonstrating the devastating consequences of existential anxiety, or death anxiety, on human behavior.

5
Artwork
Here, I present the artistic creations inspired by the concepts discussed in the previous chapters. This section ties theory and practice together, showing how my work embodies these existential and psychological themes. This chapter includes over a hundred photographic prints, paintings, and other visual media.

6
Essays
This chapter is a collection of essays I’ve written over the years, covering a range of topics from art and photography to philosophy and psychology. Along the way, you’ll find reviews and reflections on obscure ideas and peculiar subjects. The essays vary in length—some are just a few hundred words, while others span a couple of thousand. Their styles differ as well; some are explanatory, while others read more like personal journal entries.

Working It Out

It’s been a little over three years since I began writing this book and making art for it. In that time I’ve made considerable progress.

I’ve created a significant body of artwork, including the photographic prints for the book and several paintings. It has been an exciting journey, and I want to share it with those who have an interest in these theories and my work.

Drawing from the theories of Ernest Becker, Otto Rank, Terror Management Theory (TMT), and many others, I’ve used my personal experiences as a lens to investigate these existential questions. The work explores the psychology of othering, particularly through the historical lens of the Tabeguache Ute in Colorado, and delves into the roots of human evil—specifically, why people often mistreat those whose beliefs differ from their own.

I’ve been pleasantly surprised by how much I’ve enjoyed the writing process. It’s offered me profound insights into my identity and life experiences in ways I didn’t expect. Unlike photography, which captures a moment instantly, writing feels more akin to painting—it’s a slower, layered process. It generates ideas gradually, piece by piece, over time. This slower rhythm has been deeply rewarding, allowing ideas to mature and take shape in ways that feel both deliberate and organic.

A Tiny Preview of Some of My Stories

Jeanne and I spent the past week watching a Spanish series about a man who inherits the gift of premonitions from his mother. The story was intriguing and kept us engaged—it turned out to be a pretty enjoyable watch overall.

Watching it brought back memories of a trip I took to Mexico 36 years ago (see photo above). A group of friends traveled to Mazatlán, Mexico, to get out of the cold for a week—it was November 1988. One of our friends had a complete mental breakdown—he went into full-blown psychosis—at the end of the trip. It didn’t start until we were on the way home. The event lasted for several days. Like scenes from a horror film, I witnessed all of it firsthand. He ended up in a psychiatric hospital.

What happened? He went out one night with some locals—just two nights before the end of our trip. I tried to stop him but I couldn’t. He told me later that it involved methamphetamine, cocaine, and the Sinaloa Cartel (Cártel de Sinaloa).

What happened was surreal, a lot like the series we just watched. It prompted me to write about the experience in detail. I've come to understand that these kinds of experiences shaped both my creative life and my life in general. It’s like a long movie plot unfolding before me—the narrative arc—the more we observe, the more it reveals about who we are.

What I thought would never be relevant is central or key now to telling my story and the story of these theories I’m preoccupied with. In a lot of ways, it all fits together.

This story is in the second chapter of my book, which has about 15,000+ words so far and focuses on my family and friends. They are, in large part, the people who made me who I am.

From a young age, I was acutely aware of death—through tragic accidents, murder, suicide, drug addiction, war, and mental illness. These harsh realities seemed to loom around me. However, positive influences and uplifting experiences also surrounded me, shaping my early years.

The stories of my life begin around the age of eight and continue to the present day. I share memories of my mother, her deep love for humanity, and the lifelong battle she faced with mental illness. I also reflect on my grandmother’s fierce indignation whenever she heard racial slurs or witnessed people belittling those who were different. I’m so grateful for both of them.

I recount our family Thanksgiving dinners, where my mother would invite young men from the local Job Corps—African American, Native American, and Mexican American—making them welcome at our table every year. Our neighbors often didn’t know what to make of her; she was a profoundly progressive person, far ahead of her time.

One of the early stories recounts my heroin-addicted brother’s return from the Vietnam War. I write about the experience of traveling with my mother to the airport to pick him up. I’ve also written about my own experiences in the military, ten years after that, and the struggles I faced in its aftermath.

My writing delves into my time photographing dead bodies—gunshot wounds to the head, etc.—and the profound psychological impact it left on me.

I explore themes of drug use and overdoses, which have been a recurring presence in my life—friends and family dying from this kind of stuff. Most recently, my 61-year-old brother died in 2023 of methamphetamine toxcity. Alcohol and drug use was everywhere around me most of my life.

I witnessed a friend of mine shoot up Jack Daniels—yes, Jack Daniels, the whiskey. And yes, he put a needle in his arm and shot a syringe full of it into his vein. It was four o'clock in the morning—the party was still going, but there wasn’t any more cocaine available for him to shoot, snort, or smoke. I write about what he said, what he felt, etc. We gave him the nickname “Whiskey Pig” after that.

A few years later, his younger brother died of a drug overdose. During a lunch break from work, he bought some dope. He stopped at a red light in the middle of the city and injected the fentanyl-laced heroin he had just purchased. The dose was lethal—he died instantly, slumped over the steering wheel with the needle still in his arm.

These stories are my way of confronting those experiences and connecting them to the universal human search for meaning and the existential struggles that we all face. I explain how they have driven my creative life and the questions around existence.

My life is full of story after story about the struggles to exist—to cope with meaninglessness and insignificance. I’m sure I’m not the only one that could tell stories like these. However, they are uniquely mine and contrasted against the philosophical and psychological ideas around our existential struggles.

Isn't this the fundamental essence of existentialism? We are inherently searching for meaning in our lives when there is none. We crave significance and some kind of immortality that doesn’t exist. We lie and deny. We use our culture to provide meaning for us—we tranquilize ourselves with drugs, alcohol, shopping, fantasies, social media, fame, ideologies (religion, politics), or whatever can fill the void that faces us—mortality. It’s so clear to me.

Cultural constructs shape humanity, in my opinion. To me, most people are cuturally constructed meat puppets. Most people seem to be unaware of the importance of directly confronting and addressing the fundamental lie of existence—their mortality—and the consequences that ensue when they fail to do so.

That’s the theory of my book.

Agreed Madness

It’s our “one month” anniversary today. We’ve been in New Mexico for 30 days, and man, time has whizzed by!!

Between unpacking boxes and running household errands, I’ve been slowly getting back on track to work on my book. I get excited about the thought of actually completing this work. It’s no longer a hope or dream; it’s close to becoming a reality.

“Man literally drives himself into a blind obliviousness with social games, psychological tricks, and personal preoccupations so far removed from the reality of his situation that they are forms of madness—agreed madness, shared madness, disguised and dignified madness, but madness all the same.”

— Ernest Becker, Denial of Death

These theories seem simple on the surface, but it takes some deep thinking and evaluation to really understand them and, moreover, to apply them to your life. My hope is that by sharing these ideas and concepts in a book, it will inspire people (especially artists) to engage with these theories and start to share them through their art.

I wrote a while ago about someone asking me if there was a movement in art around “death anxiety.” In other words, Becker’s and Solomon's (et al.) theories could form an entire art movement based on the theories dealing with death anxiety and terror management. This is what happened in existential psychology. There are people working on PhDs in terror management theory and have been for years; why not art? Not unlike impressionism, cubism, dada, etc.

In a lot of ways, all art does address these ideas, but rarely intentionally or consciously. It’s food for thought and a wonderful way to get people to engage with these ideas.

Importance of Creativity

"Both the artist and the neurotic bite off more than they can chew, but the artist spews it back out again and chews it over in an objectified way, as an external, active, work project. The neurotic can’t marshal this creative response embodied in a specific work, and so he chokes on his introversions.

The only way to work on perfection is in the form of an objective work that is fully under your control and is perfectible in some real ways. Either you eat up yourself and others around you, trying for perfection; or you objectify that imperfection in a work, on which you then unleash your creative powers. In this sense, some kind of objective creativity is the only answer man has to the problem of life.

The creative person becomes, in art, literature, and religion, the mediator of natural terror and the indicator of a new way to triumph over it. He reveals the darkness and the dread of the human condition and fabricates a new symbolic transcendence over it. This has been the function of the creative deviant from the shamans through Shakespeare.

Otto 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, and his isolation from the cultural world-view 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. The neurotic is precisely the one who cannot create." Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death

Shaping Objects With Light and Making Ideas Real

Art gives us the ability to create ideas and physically manifest them. Think about that: the ability to make something that exists only as a thought or an idea. That is mind-twisting! In my opinion, it’s a good definition of the word magic. See Becker’s quote below.

“Man has “a mind that soars out to speculate about atoms and infinity, who can place himself imaginatively at a point in space and contemplate bemusedly his own planet. This immense expansion, this dexterity, this ethereality, this self-consciousness gives to man literally the status of a small god in nature... Yet, at the same time... man is a worm and food for worms.”

— Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death

It can be any form of expression—writing, sculpting, painting, music, photography, etc. Something that engages one or several of our senses. When I was young—10 or 12 years old—I wanted to be a figure sculptor. I got very interested in wax as a material. I visited a wax museum in Orlando, Florida, and I believe it was converted to Madame Tussauds a few years ago.

I was hooked. It was something about seeing the human figure re-created in such a way that you could really study it—almost feel its presence. There were Star Trek figures there; that’s what got me. I had my Polaroid portrait made with Spock. I still have that picture. It moved me tremendously.

One of my favorite things to do is use light to shape objects and bring out the essence of what they are or could be. So many people simply expose a picture and hope for the best. I think that takes so much of the creativity away. It turns creating something into a mechanical exercise.

“Deer Antlers in Ute Pot: Print #2,” 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25,4 cm) RA-4 Reversal Direct Color Print August 5, 2023

"The tragedy of a species becoming unfit for life by over-evolving one ability is not confined to humankind. Thus, it is thought, for instance, that certain deer in paleontological times succumbed as they acquired overly-heavy horns. The mutations must be considered blind; they work and are thrown forth without any contact of interest with their environment. In depressive states, the mind may be seen in the image of such an antler, in all its fantastic splendor, pinning its bearer to the ground."

Peter Zapffe, The Last Messiah

The species of deer that Zapffe has in mind is the Irish elk (Megaloceros giganteus), which thrived throughout Eurasia during the ecological epoch known as the Pleistocene (2.6 million to 11,700 years ago). The Irish elk had the largest antlers of any known deer, with a maximum span of 3.65 meters. Historically, the explanation given for the extinction of the Irish elk was that its antlers grew too large: the animals could no longer hold up their heads or feed properly; their antlers, according to this explanation, would also get entangled in trees, such as when trying to flee human hunters through forests.

A surplus of consciousness and intellect is the default state of affairs for the human species, although unlike the case of the deer that Zapffe alludes to, we have been able to save ourselves from going extinct. Zapffe posits that humans have come to cope and survive by repressing this surplus of consciousness. Without restricting our consciousness, Zapffe believed the human being would fall into “a state of relentless panic” or a ‘feeling of cosmic panic’, as he puts it. This follows a person’s realization that “[h]e is the universe’s helpless captive”; it comes from truly understanding the human predicament. In the 1990 documentary To Be a Human Being, he stated:

"Man is a tragic animal. Not because of his smallness, but because he is too well endowed. Man has longings and spiritual demands that reality cannot fulfill. We have expectations of a just and moral world. Man requires meaning in a meaningless world."

The Irish elk (Megaloceros giganteus), which thrived throughout Eurasia during the ecological epoch known as the Pleistocene (2.6 million to 11,700 years ago). The Irish elk had the largest antlers of any known deer, with a maximum span of 3.65 meters.

When Process Artifacts Work

In a lot of the photographic processes I’ve worked in, artifacts or defects in the process are a common occurrence. The wet collodion process is well known for these process defects. The beginners embrace them and call them “artistic.” Sometimes they are or can be, but most of the time it’s just used as a defense for poor processing techniques or a lack of understanding of the process.

I have used them in my work occasionally, but not often. The trick is control. Without control, they are simply mistakes. I won’t argue this point with people; if they like “oysters” and “comets,” so be it. Who am I to tell them any different? It’s their picture, not mine.

Having said that, I wanted to share this image. I made it today, August 1, 2023. Here’s the background (technically): After about 35 prints, which are 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25,4 cm), my Dektol developer starts to fail. When it starts to fail, I get crazy aberrations on the prints. Sometimes they are gorgeous; other times, not so much. Today, my print count was 36. I knew my developer was going to start failing. I took my chances with this print. And it turns out that the artifacts or defects are not only beautiful but also adds so much to the image.

I switched from a dark background to a pure white one. I wanted to play with the wheat and bird feathers. I wanted a painterly “light” image that would “give flight” to the objects. And check it out; there are shapes that resemble birds above the feathers and wheat. I was stunned and excited to see them!

Gunnison's Mariposa Lily and Fibonacci Star Blossom

Cosmetics are still vitally important for “good grooming” in the twenty-first century. Women spend more money on makeup and skin care every year than the United Nations spends on all its agencies and funds. New cosmetics, new styles, and new fads come and go, but they all result in part from the age-old universal human disdain for bodies in their natural state.

But beauty comes at a high price, and achieving and maintaining it often involves both physical and financial pain. Hair receives considerable attention in all cultures. Although human hair grows prolifically, people are nowhere near as hairy as our closest primate relatives. Nevertheless, we have always hated the stuff. Hairy bodies have always been associated with uncivilized, amoral, sexually promiscuous, or perverted animality.

Google “body hair” and you will get about 33.5 million hits, nearly all related to ways to get rid of it. Hair removal or alteration, especially of the face, eyebrows, underarms, legs, and pubic regions, is an ancient and widespread practice in all cultures. The Egyptians used razors, pumice stones, and depilatory creams to get rid of body hair. Julius Caesar had his facial hair extracted with tweezers and shaved his entire body (especially before sex). In Ars Amatoria (The Art of Love), the Roman poet Ovid advised young women to “let no rude goat find his way beneath your arms, and let not your legs be rough with bristling hair.” Today, Brazilian waxes and manscaping have become de rigueur for many young women and men.

Hairstyles and makeup are part of the transformation from animal to human, but these are temporary measures. Hair grows back in unruly ways and unexpected places; makeup fades or runs. Consequently, more radical and permanent body modifications are also deployed. American parents mortified by the sight of their metal-studded offspring who need ratchet wrenches to get through airport security will perhaps be comforted by the fact that such practices are ancient and universal. Remnants of ear and nose rings from four thousand years ago have been found in the Middle East. Egyptian pharaohs pierced their navels. Roman soldiers spiked their nipples. The Aztecs and Mayans pierced their tongues. Genital piercing was widespread for both males and females. The “Prince Albert,” today’s most frequently sported penis piercing, was favored by Queen Victoria’s husband. (The Worm at the Core: On the Role of Death in Life,” page 126)

“Mariposa Lily and Deer Antler,” 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25,4 cm) RA-4 Reversal Direct Color Print, July 28, 2023

A tea of the plant was taken internally by Native Americans to treat rheumatic swellings and to ease the delivery of the placenta. The juice of the leaves was applied to pimples.

“Five Star Fibonacci Sequence: A Blooming Flower,” 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25,4 cm) RA-4 Reversal Direct Color Print, July 28, 2023

“The Fibonacci Sequence turns out to be the key to understanding how nature designs... and is... a part of the same ubiquitous music of the spheres that builds harmony into atoms, molecules, crystals, shells, suns, and galaxies and makes the Universe sing.” ~ Guy Murchie, The Seven Mysteries of Life: An Exploration of Science and Philosophy

Jesus Was a Capricorn

I was doing some research on Becker’s theories appearing in art—all kinds of art—and I ran across this. I was listening to a podcast when I heard the host talking about the song “Jesus Was a Capricorn.” I’d never heard of it or read about it. It was Kris Kristofferson’s 1972 song.

It sits at the heart of Ernest Becker’s theories about “othering.” Having an in-house designated inferior, as Sheldon Solomon would say. In The Denial of Death, author Ernest Becker states, "The essence of man is really his paradoxical nature, the fact that he is half animal and half symbolic." Psychologically, we try to deny our animality and live through symbolism and meaning. It's the animal part that gives us problems. It reminds us that we are going to die. In seeking meaning and importance for ourselves, we deny it to others, and especially to those “others” who threaten our truth. In the end, we all have the same goal: to raise men above nature, to assure them that in some ways their lives count in the universe more than merely physical things count” (Ernest Becker).

“In The Denial of Death, author Ernest Becker states, “The essence of man is really his paradoxical nature, the fact that he is half animal and half symbolic.” Psychologically, we try to deny our animality and live through symbolism and meaning. It’s the animal part that gives us problems. It reminds us that we are going to die.”

Here are the lyrics:

[Verse 1]

Jesus was a Capricorn, he ate organic foods

He believed in love and peace and never wore no shoes

Long hair, beard and sandles and a funky bunch of friends

Reckon they'd just nail him up, if he come down again

[Chorus]

'Cause everybody's gotta have somebody to look down on

Prove they can feel better than at any time they please

Someone doin' somethin' dirty decent folks can frown on

If you can't find nobody else, then help yourself to me

[Verse 2]

Eggheads cussin', rednecks cussin' hippies for their hair

Others laugh at straights who laugh at freaks who laugh at squares

Some folks hate the Whites who hate the Blacks who hate the Klan

Most of us hate anything we don't understand

[Chorus]

'Cause everybody's gotta have somebody to look down on

Prove they can feel better than at any time they please

Someone doin' somethin' dirty decent folks can frown on

If you can't find nobody else, then help yourself to me

[Outro]

Help yourself right on

Help yourself, Jim

Help yourself, Reverend

“Flowering Yarrow and Granite Stone,” 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25,4cm) RA-4 Reversal Direct Color Print July 17, 2023

White Sage, Sneezeweed, and Western Goatsbeard

"Sneezeweed in an English Brass Spittoon Used for Snuff," 10" x 10" (25,4 x 25,4 cm) RA-4 Color Reversal Print, July 16, 2023

They are commonly known as 'Sneezeweed' due to the ancient use of their dried leaves in making snuff, which was inhaled to help sneeze and rid the body of evil spirits. The dried, nearly mature flower heads are used in a powdered form as snuff to treat colds and headaches. When made into tea, they are used in the treatment of intestinal worms.

“Sneezeweed” POP (palldiotype) July 20, 2022

"Western Goatsbeard," 10" x 10" (25,4 x 25,4 cm) RA-4 Color Reversal Print, July 16, 2023

Remember the yellow salisify flower from the other day? This is what it ends up being. An amazing transformation! Life and death, that’s the jam.

“Western Goatsbeard” POP (palldiotype) July 19, 2022

The Challenge of Doing Something Different: Examining the Creative Life

Without matte, a full 10” square

MAKING STUFF
I often think about the act of creating something and what it means—a photograph, making a knife (blade-smiting and blacksmithing), or writing something meaningful. What is it that drives us to create? I’ve been reading and thinking about this question for some time. It falls right in line with Becker’s theories; in fact, it’s right at home with terror management theory. Otto Rank believed that art and creativity were essential for human psychological health and development. He argued that art serves as a way for individuals to express their innermost desires, fears, and conflicts. According to Rank, the artist is a heroic figure who confronts and transcends the existential anxieties and limitations of human existence through the act of creation.

“Nothing exists until or unless it is observed. An artist is making something exist by observing it. And his hope for other people is that they will also make it exist by observing it. I call it ‘creative observation.’ Creative viewing.”

— William S. Burroughs, Ports of Entry: William S. Burroughs and the Arts

In reality, there are many reasons human beings create “things.” Most of the reasons are somewhat superficial or commercial. I feel the predominant one is rooted in the quest for immortality. We fear dying, mostly because we fear being forgotten and our lives being insignificant. Becker said, “What man really fears is not so much extinction, but extinction with insignificance.” I can understand that, at least intellectually. At times, I feel like my creative life and the objects that I create are meant for another time or different people in a different time. In the same way, I look at work created long ago that resonates deeply with me. Maybe it’s just me justifying a fear or a desire, but I think it’s rooted in my unconscious desire for symbolic immorality. There is also an immediate and significant reward; it gives my life meaning and significance. I can see the short- and long-term anxiety buffer in having a creative life.

"Three Mountain Coneflowers in Moon Rocks," 10"x10" (25,4 x 25,4cm) RA-4 Reversal Direct Color Print, July 13, 2023

Tea was made from the leaves and flower heads. Native Americans boiled prairie coneflower leaves and stems to make a solution that was applied externally to draw the poison out of rattlesnake bites. An infusion was used to relieve the pain of headaches and treat stomachaches and fevers.

BEING YOURSELF AND CREATING SOMETHING UNIQUE
Different is good, right? We hear that often. Why do we think that being different is good? It’s usually applied to people who are pushing the boundaries and challenging the status quo of something. We hear it chanted often because mediocrity breeds contempt. Meaning that the more familiar you are with something or someone, the more likely you are to find fault with it or them. Human beings thrive on diversity and uniqueness. However, a lot of people resist anything different and want things to remain known, comfortable, and predictable. The truth is that we are at our best when we challenge ourselves and get out of our comfort zones. Most people know that, but most are afraid to do it. They’re afraid to fail.

“ An artist, a man truly worthy of this great name, must possess something essentially his own, thanks to which he is what he is and no one else.” This applies to women as well - remember the context of the time.”

— Charles Baudelaire

How can artists challenge themselves? Hasn’t it all been done before? For the most part, yes, it has all been done before in one way or another. What’s unique is how YOU are applying the concepts, ideas, processes, methods, etc. to the work and the narrative as a whole. You are the difference. Period.

You are something that’s never been before and will never be again. That’s what makes artwork unique—its creator. So, if you copy or emulate someone or something else, you lose that edge—you lose the only thing that will make your work different or unique. I know it’s tempting to always make images that are familiar and that people can easily connect to, but remember, it breeds contempt! Thinking through a compelling idea, question, or concern is the only thing that will make you stand out from all of the others making photographs of the same old stuff or trying to “wow” people by working in some obscure process or using expensive or rare equipment (especially without context or a narrative or story).

This is the reason that I rant so often about the physicality (hand-made or deeply involved connection) of making artwork. It’s the best way to ensure that human beings (you) did the work, not a machine, computer, or software—but that’s an argument for another day.

Charles Baudelaire said, "An artist, a man truly worthy of this great name, must possess something essentially his own, thanks to which he is what he is and no one else." This applies to women as well; remember the context of the time. This quote sums up the ideas that I’m talking about in this essay.

If you want to challenge yourself or push yourself, do something that you never thought you’d do. At least try it. Break some rules and try to tell your story in a different, unconventional way. Don’t follow the advice of the masses: “It’s supposed to look like this or that.” Make it yours; make it fit your story in a new and unique way. Be true to yourself; don’t allow the pressures of tradition to dictate how you express yourself. In the end, your audience is just one: YOU! It’s great if other people “get it” or appreciate it, but it’s more important that you create it in your own unique style, authentic and true, whatever that looks like.

"White Poppy," 10"x10" (25,4 x 25,4cm) RA-4 Reversal Direct Color Print, July 13, 2023

Long before Europeans discovered North America, Native Americans were aware of the biological activities of extractions from poppies and using Argemoneas source of medicines. They used concoctions derived from poppies for anesthetizing fish, sedating humans, removing warts, treating cold sores, cuts, scrapes, and congestion associated with colds and flu, and as a soporific, an emetic, and a laxative. The first Americans had other uses for poppies as well, including dyes for fabrics and tattoos.

"White Poppy," 6.5” x 8.5” Palladiotype from a Paper Negative (Calotype), September 21, 2022

Long before Europeans discovered North America, Native Americans were aware of the biological activities of extractions from poppies and using Argemonea as a source of medicines. They used concoctions derived from poppies for anesthetizing fish, sedating humans, removing warts, treating cold sores, cuts, scrapes, and congestion associated with colds and flu, and as a soporific, an emetic, and a laxative. The first Americans had other uses for poppies as well, including dyes for fabrics and tattoos.

"Three Mountain Coneflowers, Antlers (as bleached bones), Rocky Mountain Wheat Grass and European Silver," 10"x10" (25,4 x 25,4cm) RA-4 Reversal Direct Color Print, July 13, 2023

Tea was made from the leaves and flower heads. Native Americans boiled mountain coneflower leaves and stems to make a solution that was applied externally to draw the poison out of rattlesnake bites. An infusion was used to relieve the pain of headaches and treat stomachaches and fevers.

I’m starting to put these images together as diptychs. They look beautiful together—different languages saying the same thing. I love it.

“Damaged Willow Tree, Fremont County, Colorado,” 10"x10" (25,4 x 25,4cm) RA-4 Reversal Direct Color Print, July 15, 2023

The iPhone snap of this isn’t that great, but the print looks wonderful. I’m very happy with the results of this process. Lightning struck or a wind storm tore this willow tree apart. It was a very dramatic scene. I love how the clouds show up in the image. This is a very painterly image to me.

Without matte, a full 10” square

“White Poppies In a Field in Fremont County, Colorado,” 10"x10" (25,4 x 25,4cm) RA-4 Reversal Direct Color Print, July 15, 2023

I never really know exactly what I’m going to get with this color reversal process. What I hope for is either muted colors or shifted colors. Colors that are just enough to seem real or accurate but shifted just enough to make you wonder about what you’re seeing.

I was very pleased in the darkroom today to see this appear in the developer. I’m reminded of an old Polaroid or expired film from the 1960s. I really like how it evokes memories with its aesthetic. The white poppies are blooming everywhere right now. They look wonderful on the landscape.

Meaning and Significance: Why We Need It and How We Find It

“Did you know the uniquely human fear of death has a pervasive effect on human beings’ thoughts, feelings, and behavior? Humans manage the terror of death by adhering to culturally constructed beliefs about reality that provide a sense that one is a person of value in a world of meaning and thus eligible for either literal or symbolic immortality. The quest for immortality underlies some of humankind’s most noble achievements. It also, however, engenders some of our most ignominious affectations, including hostility and disdain for people with different beliefs; attraction to ideological demagogues; indifference to, or contempt for, the natural environment; and the mindless pursuit of material possessions—which, if unchecked, may render humans the first form of life responsible for their own extinction.”

Sheldon Solomon, PhD, Author of "The Worm at the Core: On the Role of Death in Life"

Last year, I had Sheldon as a guest on my YouTube channel. We had a discussion about the importance of Becker's theories for creative individuals, especially photographers. It was a great conversation, and I would like to have him on again.

I have two main objectives for my book: firstly, I want to explain these theories in simple terms that anyone can understand. Secondly, I want to show how these theories were directly involved in the mass killings and massacres of Native Americans during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries in the western United States. Additionally, I explore how these theories impact artists and other creative people, albeit in a slightly different way.

“Did you know the uniquely human fear of death has a pervasive effect on human beings’ thoughts, feelings, and behavior? Humans manage the terror of death by adhering to culturally constructed beliefs about reality that provide a sense that one is a person of value in a world of meaning and thus eligible for either literal or symbolic immortality. The quest for immortality underlies some of humankind’s most noble achievements. It also, however, engenders some of our most ignominious affectations, including hostility and disdain for people with different beliefs; attraction to ideological demagogues; indifference to, or contempt for, the natural environment; and the mindless pursuit of material possessions—which, if unchecked, may render humans the first form of life responsible for their own extinction.”

— Sheldon Solomon, PhD, Author of "The Worm at the Core: On the Role of Death in Life"

I’m making most of these color flora prints with the 10” x 10” Chamonix camera and an 1874 Dallmeyer 3B lens.

Let's talk about the concept of meaning in life. For me, meaning implies that our existence has a purpose and makes sense. On the other hand, significance refers to being noticed and considered important. Our greatest fear is to live in a world that lacks meaning and significance, often referred to as "death anxiety." Essentially, we are unconsciously terrified of impermanence and insignificance.

Throughout thousands of years, humans have undergone psychological evolution as part of their overall development. Our brains have evolved to have a large neocortex, but we have also suppressed the awareness of our mortality in order to function in our daily lives. Thomas Ligotti, in his book "The Conspiracy Against the Human Race," said, "For the rest of the earth’s organisms, existence is relatively uncomplicated. Their lives are about three things: survival, reproduction, death—and nothing else. But we know too much to content ourselves with surviving, reproducing, dying—and nothing else. We know we are alive and know we will die. We also know we will suffer during our lives before suffering—slowly or quickly—as we draw near to death. This is the knowledge we “enjoy” as the most intelligent organisms to gush from the womb of nature. And being so, we feel shortchanged if there is nothing else for us than to survive, reproduce, and die. We want there to be more to it than that, or to think there is. This is the tragedy: Consciousness has forced us into the paradoxical position of striving to be unself-conscious of what we are—hunks of spoiling flesh on disintegrating bones." It is a paradox. We possess incredible intelligence, yet we are aware that we will eventually die. This is a difficult reality to accept, and we tend to deny and reject it. However, death is an inevitable part of life for all of us.

The “scene” photographed with an iPhone to give you an idea of my working environment.

So, how do we deal with this existential dilemma? The answer lies in culture. Every culture, and there are countless diverse cultures around the world, provides its people with ways to alleviate their death anxiety or existential dread. These "cultural worldviews," as Becker calls them, serve as intricate distractions or illusions that prevent us from consciously dwelling on the subject of death (especially our own). You may be reading this right now and thinking, "What is he talking about? I rarely think about death; I don’t have death anxiety!" Exactly. That means you have a cultural worldview you are clinging to tightly and are ensconced in—protected from the thoughts of death by the cultural constructs you believe in and participate in—and it works well!

What are these cultural worldviews? They are anything that your in-group shares as reality. It’s what you and the people around you believe to be important. The most potent are religion, politics, nationalism, family (having children), money, fame, looks, etc. These worldviews usually provide ways to gain symbolic or literal immortality and give us a road map to follow in our lives. Ernest Becker said, "No wonder men go into a rage over fine points of belief: if your adversary wins the argument about truth, you die. Your immortality system has been shown to be fallible; your life becomes fallible." Cultures reward good behavior (things that the group believes in) and punish bad behavior. Remember, what’s “good” or “bad” in your culture may be very different from someone else's. Read about the “Flute Ceremony” versus the “Bar Mitzvah” in Sheldon’s book “The Worm at the Core: On the Role of Death in Life.” This is where the conflict begins.

In order for us to get out of bed in the morning, we need meaning. And we need to feel like we are part of something important. If we don’t have meaning and significance, there’s a good chance we’ll fall into depression and other mental health issues. The takeaway is this: Be conscious of what you’re choosing to lean on—your cultural worldview—to bolster your self-esteem and stave off existential dread; it can lead to good things or bad things. It’s very easy to adopt the malignant worldviews of racism, hate, scapegoating, and othering. It’s easy to fall into the cultural trap of treating people who are different from you badly. If we’re conscious of these psychological pressures, we can make good choices and allow other people to find good, healthy, non-destructive ways to buffer their death anxiety. Awe, gratitude, and humility go a long way as buffers and do no warm to other people.

“For the rest of the earth’s organisms, existence is relatively uncomplicated. Their lives are about three things: survival, reproduction, death—and nothing else. But we know too much to content ourselves with surviving, reproducing, dying—and nothing else. We know we are alive and know we will die. We also know we will suffer during our lives before suffering—slowly or quickly—as we draw near to death. This is the knowledge we “enjoy” as the most intelligent organisms to gush from the womb of nature. And being so, we feel shortchanged if there is nothing else for us than to survive, reproduce, and die. We want there to be more to it than that, or to think there is. This is the tragedy: Consciousness has forced us into the paradoxical position of striving to be unself-conscious of what we are—hunks of spoiling flesh on disintegrating bones.”

— Thomas Ligotti, The Conspiracy Against the Human Race

“Flowering Prickly Pear Cactus and Water Vase,” 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25,4 cm), RA-4 Reversal Direct Color Print, July 7, 2023. If you look close, you can see what I’m experimenting with. I exposed the paper backwards—exposing through the paper—and then exposed it again with the emulsion forward. It looks really great in your hand.

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.