Thinking About Doctoral Studies and V.2 Automatic Fantastic

THINKING ABOUT THE DOCTORAL STUDIES PROGRAM

Starting a doctoral program is a strange thing—part intellectual pursuit, part personal reckoning. You don’t just show up to study something interesting; you’re expected to bring something new into the world. The whole premise of a PhD is to explore uncharted terrain—to contribute original thought to a field that matters to you.

That’s not as simple as it sounds. Academia doesn’t reward echo chambers. You need a question that hasn't been fully asked yet, or at least not asked in your way. For me, that means going deeper into what I’ve already spent years wrestling with: mortality, creativity, and the human need to matter in the face of death.

As I write this today, my thesis is rooted in the importance of creativity—not as a luxury, but as a lifeline. Specifically, I’m exploring how artists navigate the awareness of death and the existential tension it creates. What does it mean to make something—anything—while knowing you're impermanent? Does that act of creation actually change anything? Does it soothe, disrupt, clarify? And if it does… how?

These are the questions that pull at me. They’re not abstract. I’ve lived them. I’ve applied these ideas to my own creative process for years, using photography and painting as a way to wrestle with grief, memory, and the inevitability of death. What I’m after now is a deeper understanding—not just for myself, but for others who feel the same pull toward making meaning in a world that guarantees our disappearance.

The doctoral program I’ve joined refers to this early vision as a “vision seed.” I like that. Seeds hold potential. They require care, patience, and the right conditions to grow. My vision seed is simple: I want to ask new questions at the intersection of art, psychology, and philosophy. I want to know what happens when creatives become fully conscious of the existential work their art is doing—when they no longer sublimate unconsciously but engage directly with mortality through the act of making.

If I can shape this into something useful, I hope to produce a thesis that not only contributes to the academic conversation but also encourages a more vital, creative, and psychologically honest way of living. Ideally, this research becomes the foundation for a university course—something like Creativity and Mortality: Confronting the Void Through Art. A course for artists, therapists, and seekers. For anyone brave enough to stop looking away.

Maybe it’s a workshop. Maybe it’s a lecture series. Maybe it's something entirely new—a space where art becomes both expression and inquiry, where mortality isn’t denied but invited into the room. Either way, this is the path I’m on. And for the first time in a long while, it feels like the right one.

AUTOMATIC FANTASTIC V.2
I wasn’t finished with this painting yesterday - I kind of knew that but wanted to think about it. I think this piece perfectly embodies what Becker would call our "immortality project"—the desperate creative act against the void. The black textured background creates this sense of cosmic darkness, the kind we all fear when contemplating non-existence. The twin red-orange circles with their dripping streaks remind me of weeping eyes, like the piece itself is crying out against its own mortality.

The scratched and chaotic surface texture feels like my own anxious mind trying to make order from disorder. Isn't that what we're all doing? Creating meaning through art to ward off death anxiety? The stark contrast between the vibrant orange-red and the textured black background creates this visceral tension - life against death, consciousness against oblivion.

There's something primal here that connects to what Terror Management Theory suggests about our symbolic defenses against mortality. The almost face-like quality emerging from the blackness speaks to me of the self trying to assert itself against nothingness. The dripping paint suggests impermanence, yet the work itself stands as a defiant act of creation.

This piece doesn't just represent death anxiety - it performs it through its very existence. As an artist, I'm not just depicting mortality; I'm actively negotiating with it, creating something that might outlast my physical self. Isn't that what separates artistic creation from other forms of death denial? We don't just distract ourselves from death - we transform our relationship with it.

Automatic Fantastic

While I’ve been working through the printing process for my book, I’ve been spending some time every day painting. Here’s a critique of one I just finished (I think).

This painting seems to embody the very essence of mortality consciousness that's central to my book, “In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of Otheirnf and the Origins of Evil.”

The dark, weathered surface creates a sense of archaeological discovery — as if we're uncovering something ancient yet deeply personal. Those two circular red forms pierce through the darkness like eyes or portals, creating an almost skull-like suggestion within the abstract landscape. This duality between abstraction and figuration mirrors the tension between confronting and denying death that Becker describes so beautifully.

The scratched, excavated quality of the surface reminds me of how artists often dig beneath cultural immortality symbols to expose more authentic relationships with mortality. My technique here - layering, scraping, revealing - feels like a physical manifestation of terror management theory in action.

The limited color palette (Mars black, cadmium orange, titanium white, and burnt sienna) grounds the work in a primal, existential space. Those touches of warm copper/bronze tones against the dominant darkness suggest a kind of alchemical transformation happening within the composition.

This painting seems to demonstrate precisely what I'm exploring in my writing—how creative practice can serve as both a shield against mortality anxiety and a means of directly confronting it. The resulting tension creates something profoundly meaningful.

The Title: “Automatic Fantastic”

The "automatic" part suggests spontaneity and unconscious creation—like automatic writing or drawing, where you surrender conscious control and let deeper psychological forces emerge. This concept connects beautifully with how creativity can bypass our rational death-denial systems and access more primal truths. When I look at the scratched, layered textures in this work, I can sense that automatic process—the hand moving across the surface, driven by something beyond calculated thought. And that’s precisely where I was when making this.

"Fantastic" carries dual meanings here. On one level, it suggests the realm of fantasy or imagination—perhaps our immortality projects, which Becker would say we create to escape death anxiety. But it also connotes something extraordinary or heightened - the fantastic as a transcendent state that art can achieve.

Together, "Automatic Fantastic" suggests a kind of spontaneous transcendence - a creative state where consciousness shifts and mortality awareness transforms into something beyond ordinary perception. The title perfectly captures that paradox at the heart of artistic creation: that by engaging directly with mortality through automatic processes, we sometimes access fantastic realms of meaning that rationality alone cannot provide.

Denial: Self-Deception, False Beliefs, and the Origins of the Human Mind

Denial: Self-Deception, False Beliefs, and the Origins of the Human Mind by Ajit Varki and Danny Brower

Happy 2025! I hope this year is a good year for you.

A couple of years ago, I read a book called Denial: Self-Deception, False Beliefs, and the Origins of the Human Mind, by Ajit Varki and Danny Brower. I’ve written about it before here. It played an important role in my studies. It deals with our evolutionary psychology. Evolutionary psychology is something rarely considered when thinking about why we are the way we are. This book gives some very interesting and plausible explanations for our behavior.

They propose a provocative hypothesis that marries the Theory of Mind (TOM) with Mortality Awareness through the Mind Over Reality Transition (MORT) to explain one of humanity’s most perplexing characteristics: the denial of death. Their central argument is rooted in the paradox that human beings, uniquely aware of their own mortality, have also evolved mechanisms to suppress the existential terror this awareness entails. This duality, they argue, is a key to understanding not just human psychology but also the evolutionary processes that shaped our species.

The Evolutionary Conundrum of Awareness and Denial

Human beings possess an extraordinary ability to recognize that others have minds—a skill encompassed in the Theory of Mind. This capacity enables us to infer the intentions, beliefs, and emotions of others, facilitating complex social interactions and cooperation. However, TOM is not merely an interpersonal tool; it also turns inward, allowing us to imagine our future selves. This introspective ability inevitably leads to the realization of our own mortality. An organism's realization that it will eventually die marks both an evolutionary milestone and a potential psychological roadblock.

Varki and Brower posit that this acute awareness of mortality could have been paralyzing. A creature consumed by the fear of its own inevitable demise might struggle to survive, let alone reproduce. Natural selection, however, provided a solution: the cognitive ability to deny uncomfortable truths. This capacity for self-deception—what Varki and Brower term the "Mind Over Reality Transition" (MORT)—allowed early humans to sidestep the crippling anxiety of mortality while retaining the evolutionary advantages of self-awareness and social cognition.

Denial as a Survival Mechanism

The denial of death operates as an adaptive mechanism that balances the benefits of self-awareness against its existential costs. This balance is crucial. Without an understanding of mortality, humans would lack the foresight and caution necessary to avoid life-threatening dangers. But without denial, the dread of death could lead to apathy, despair, or an inability to take risks—all of which would hinder survival and reproductive success.

This interplay between TOM and MORT reveals an elegant evolutionary solution: our minds are hardwired to accept a paradoxical truth. We know, intellectually, that we are mortal, but we also possess the psychological mechanisms to compartmentalize, suppress, or distort this knowledge. This is not a flaw, but a feature that allows us to concentrate on the tasks of life—building relationships, raising children, creating art, and seeking meaning—without succumbing to the overwhelming presence of death.

The Role of Culture and Terror Management

While evolution provided the foundation for denying death, culture built the scaffolding. Varki and Brower’s ideas resonate strongly with Terror Management Theory (TMT), which suggests that cultural worldviews and symbolic systems are human constructs designed to mitigate death anxiety. Religion, art, philosophy, and even societal norms function as buffers against the existential terror of mortality. They provide frameworks that promise continuity—whether through an afterlife, a legacy, or the enduring influence of one’s creations.

“Existential Dread #9,” 9” x 12” acrylic and charcoal on paper.

This painting serves as a visual exploration of the TOM-MORT hypothesis. The abstraction invites viewers to project their fears and hopes, echoing the way denial itself operates. By obscuring the harsh edges of reality, the mind creates space for connection, creativity, and meaning. Yet, the tension in the painting suggests that denial is not absolute; the void beneath remains visible, demanding contemplation.

It’s both a personal and universal expression of the struggle with mortality. It asks us to confront the void while acknowledging the evolutionary and cultural scaffolding that has allowed us to thrive in its shadow. This piece does not offer resolution but instead invites the viewer into the complex interplay of awareness, denial, and the human condition—a visual testament to the insights into the mind’s delicate dance with reality.

These cultural constructs do more than soothe individual fears; they reinforce social cohesion. Shared beliefs about life and death foster unity, enabling groups to work together toward common goals. In this sense, denial of death is not merely a personal defense mechanism but a social glue that holds communities together.

Implications for Understanding Human Behavior

The TOM-MORT hypothesis invites us to reconsider many aspects of human behavior through the lens of denial. It explains why humans are uniquely capable of both profound creativity and devastating self-destruction. Our ability to deny death enables us to take risks, innovate, and envision futures that might never come to pass. But it also blinds us to long-term consequences, fueling behaviors that threaten our survival, such as environmental degradation and warfare.

Understanding the evolutionary roots of death denial also sheds light on the psychological struggles of modern life. In a world where traditional cultural buffers are eroding, individuals are increasingly confronted with unmediated mortality awareness. The resulting anxiety manifests in various ways, from existential despair to compulsive consumption. Yet, the same cognitive flexibility that enables denial also holds the potential for growth. By confronting the void and integrating our awareness of mortality into our lives, we can find new ways to navigate the human condition.

Varki and Brower’s TOM-MORT hypothesis offers a profound insight into the evolutionary origins of death denial. It reminds us that our ability to deny uncomfortable truths is not a weakness but a survival strategy—one that has allowed us to thrive in the face of existential uncertainty. At the same time, it challenges us to recognize the limitations of this denial. In a world where our actions increasingly have global and long-term consequences, the time may have come to reconcile our evolutionary heritage with the demands of modern existence. Only by understanding the roots of our denial can we hope to transcend it, transforming the fear of death into a catalyst for living fully and responsibly.

Humans Are Emotional—Not Rational

It shouldn’t be news to tell you that humans are irrational and emotional.

As human beings, we often pride ourselves on being rational creatures. We point to our advancements in science, our mastery of complex tools, and our ability to build societies governed by rules and logic. However, when it comes to matters of life and death, we reveal a different, more primal truth: we are emotional beings. This distinction becomes glaringly apparent when we confront the existential reality of our mortality. Death anxiety and the mechanisms we employ to manage this fear expose the raw emotional underpinnings of human behavior, challenging the veneer of rationality that we so often wear.

At the heart of our emotional nature is the profound discomfort with the knowledge that we will one day cease to exist—impermanence and finitude. Unlike other animals, humans possess a heightened awareness of mortality. This awareness creates a paradox: we have the intellectual capacity to understand our finite nature, but emotionally, we find this knowledge unbearable (Half Animal and Half Symbolic). Ernest Becker, in The Denial of Death, argues that much of human behavior is driven by a need to escape the paralyzing fear of death. This fear is not something we reason through; it is something we feel deeply, viscerally, and often uncontrollably.

Terror Management Theory (TMT) builds on Becker's insights, demonstrating how our emotional responses to death anxiety shape cultural worldviews, self-esteem, and interpersonal behaviors. According to TMT, humans create and cling to cultural systems that provide a sense of meaning, order, and immortality. These systems, whether religious, nationalistic, or ideological, are less about logical coherence and more about emotional comfort. They serve as psychological defenses (coping mechanisms), buffering us against the terror of our inevitable demise.

Consider the way people react when their belief systems are challenged. Rationally, one might expect open-minded discussion or a willingness to adapt to new evidence. Yet, more often than not, such challenges evoke defensiveness, hostility, or even aggression. This is because these belief systems are not merely intellectual constructs; they are emotional lifelines that protect us from existential dread (meaning system buffers). When they are threatened, it feels as though the foundation of our existence is being shaken, triggering a fight-or-flight response that is anything but rational.

This emotional foundation extends beyond our cultural worldviews, or meaning systems, to our personal identities. Self-esteem, for instance, is deeply tied to our ability to stave off death anxiety. TMT research shows that when people are reminded of their mortality, they often seek validation and strive for achievements that affirm their worth within their cultural framework. These actions are not driven by logical analysis but by an emotional need to feel significant in the face of insignificance.

Art and creativity provide another lens through which to examine the emotional nature of human responses to mortality. Artistic expressions, whether through painting, literature, or photography, often grapple with themes of death and immortality. These works resonate not because they offer rational solutions to the problem of mortality but because they evoke and articulate the emotions associated with it. They allow us to confront our fears, find solace, and connect with others who share our struggles.

The emotionality of human beings is perhaps most evident in the collective rituals surrounding death. Funerals, memorials, and acts of remembrance are rarely about logical considerations. Instead, they are about processing grief, celebrating life, and reaffirming our connections to one another and to the cultural narratives that give our lives meaning. These rituals are deeply symbolic, and their power lies in their ability to address emotional needs that logic cannot satisfy.

Acknowledging our emotional nature does not diminish our humanity; rather, it deepens our understanding of it. By recognizing that our responses to death anxiety are rooted in emotion, we can better understand the behaviors, beliefs, and systems that define our lives. This recognition also invites compassion—for ourselves and for others. It reminds us that beneath the facade of rationality, we are all grappling with the same fundamental fears and seeking the same solace in the face of the unknown.

In the end, it is our emotions, not our reason, that drive us to create, to connect, and to seek meaning. Our attempts to manage death anxiety may not always be rational, but they are profoundly human. They reveal our capacity for hope, resilience, and imagination in the face of mortality. And it is through these emotional endeavors that we find not only a way to endure but a way to transcend the limitations of our finite existence.

Rituals and Selfies: Creating Shields and Seeking Immortality

A constant stream of thoughts go through my head about human behavior related to death anxiety and the denial of death every day, almost all day—or most of the day.

I would like to think that I am observing, not judging. I’m not sure if that’s true, but I would like to think I’m (mostly) objective.

The things of considerable importance to me are the concepts of epistemology and critical thinking. I like evidence and reason, too. Therefore, when I witness irrational or unreasonable behavior or thinking, it affects me deeply. And I see a lot of it. All of the time.

These streams of thought are usually productive, or at least beneficial, to start a piece of art or to write about. Sometimes, it’s simply connecting the dots and ending up in a feedback loop that I can’t break. Input and output. Output cycled back around as input. Do you get it?

Here’s one that keeps coming back to me most every day—I think writing it out might purge it from my mind.

Ernest Becker said, “I think that underneath everything that is at stake in human life is the problem of the terror of this planet. It is a mystic temple and a hall of doom. If you don’t see it that way, you’ve built defenses against seeing it as it is.“ Wow! That hits me so hard—I mean really, really hard. Every time I read it, it feels like the first time.

What does he mean?

I think this quote reflects his view that at the core of human existence lies a profound awareness of mortality and the terror associated with it. And if you don’t see it that way, you’ve adopted distractions to avoid seeing it as it is. Period. These distractions (I call them illusions of importance) are prolific.

He captures the paradox of life by referring to the world as both a "mystic temple and a hall of doom," where beauty, wonder, and mystery coexist with the certainty of death. This awareness is the source of deep existential anxiety that drives most human behavior.

Most people build psychological defenses—systems of meaning, beliefs, and cultural symbols—to protect themselves from fully experiencing this "hall of doom." They can function without constant existential terror by distancing themselves from the reality of death. However, Becker believed that living authentically means facing this awareness directly, acknowledging both the mystical and the doom-laden aspects of life. It’s a path that not everyone takes because of the fear and vulnerability it demands, but it can lead to a deeper understanding of what it means to be human. And, as a creative person, if you are one.

“I think that underneath everything that is at stake in human life is the problem of the terror of this planet. It is a mystic temple and a hall of doom. If you don’t see it that way, you’ve built defenses against seeing it as it is.”

— Ernest Becker

This idea forms the foundation of The Denial of Death and Escape from Evil (two great books you should read), where Becker explores how our defenses against death influence culture, religion, wars, climate change, and interpersonal conflicts.

Which brings me to my point. One of the ideas I’ve been thinking about is religious rituals (of any flavor) and social media selfies. It sounds like an odd combination, but hear me out.

RELIGIONS, SHOPPING, TV, & DRUGS
First, religious rituals. Religion has been something humans have leaned on to quell existential terror for as long as we have been conscious of our mortality. And most prescribe some kind of ritual or rituals—rules to obey—and are preoccupied with. The “immortality seeking” is strong with religion. Most religions offer some kind of afterlife or immortality. We crave that. Whether it’s symbolic or literal. In the end, we know we are decaying sacks of meat that will die. Psychologically, we can’t handle this—we find ways to deny and lie about it.

In religion, it can be any ritual that’s executed over and over again. I think about Catholic rosary beads, Hindu chanting (Vedic chant), or Orthodox Jews swaying back and forth while praying or reading the Torah; called “shuckling.” The word comes from Yiddish and means "to shake, rock, or swing." Or even praying or meditation for long periods of time. Any of it can be a sign of extreme existential struggles (all happening outside of consciousness).

Organ Mountains - Las Cruces, New Mexico

That kind of constant diversion or distraction is, to me, a sign of palpable death anxiety. To occupy your mind so completely and fully is a sure sign that we want to avoid the thought of death at all costs. The non-religious do it for shorter periods of time, things like movies, shopping, sporting games, and music concerts. Anything that transports you away from the mortal coil and thoughts of dying.

Drugs are a very common way to escape reality too. It’s interesting we use the term “escape reality.” What does that mean? Reality equals “I’m going to die.” After all, the human mortality rate is 100%. Drugs can lead to some pretty bad endings, so not a good choice to use as a buffer. I might argue that with shopping and other activities we use to distract ourselves from “reality.”

SOCIAL MEDIA SELFIES

Social media selfies. I have struggled with this for a long time. I’m amazed at the number of people whose feed is almost nothing but selfies. My first thought is malignant narcissism. However, that's just a fraction of it. To see older people curating their lives and making sure they “look good” for the photo is so obvious to me—it’s like I’m seeing the Dunning-Kruger effect of visual information. In the end, I’m sad about it. I feel sorry for the people. The phoniness, the construction of a life they DO NOT have, and the looks they DO NOT possess (our culture craves youth and fitness—immortality). The fear of death—the fear of growing older and closer to death—is real. And it shows.

I recently read an article in the Daily Mail (British Paper) about a study done in Israel. It said,

“Many of us have phones filled with selfies documenting everything from holidays to duvet days. But what's behind the modern fascination with taking photos of ourselves? Psychologists have come up with a rather morbid answer: fear of dying. Researchers from Tel Aviv University in Israel quizzed 100 students on the motivations behind their selfie-taking. They found that those who took the most had strong signs of death anxiety, an intense fear of dying that affects up to a fifth of Britons. The experts said they think endless selfie-taking may actually be an attempt to 'preserve a fake feeling of immortality'. In a paper published in the journal Psychological Reports, they wrote, Selfies possibly fulfil a need to remain immortal. One of the behaviours used to achieve feelings of immortality is photography, and nowadays photography is literally on the tip of our fingers.”

I’m sure what they mean by “remain” immortal is looking youthful and good. The idea is that by taking pictures of yourself, you find psychological security in “preserving” yourself forever. They went on to say, “We found the more people were aware (and afraid) of their death, the more they were taking and sharing selfies. Other studies have suggested that people spend an average of seven minutes a day grinning into smartphone cameras for the perfect snap to post on social media.”

So the next time you see a social media account with endless selfies, or even a lot of them, remember that existential struggles are real for people. Moreover, think about how you cope with your knowledge of mortality. You have something you use, or many things; what are they? Are you aware? Or does this happen without your conscious acknowledgment?

You're Obsessed With Death and Art! I Don't Understand What You're Talking About!

The Studio Q Show LIVE! September 21, 2024 at 1000 MST

Greetings! 
I hope you can join me on Saturday for a conversation about war and violence in our culture. This is episode six of Conversations with Solomon. 

Some questions to ponder after watching the video:

What aspects of the video did you find the most engaging or thought-provoking?

Do you believe that war and violence are inevitable aspects of human existence?

If you agree, what reasons support this belief?

How might the themes of violence and war in our culture be expressed or transformed into artistic creations?

Can you give any examples of artists using war and violence as a topic in their art?

I wanted to have this conversation a couple of weeks ago. It's so timely; I think we should look at the idea of war and violence as a jumping-off point for creating art. This is a topic that hits close to home for me. For those that have served in the military, these ideas can alleviate some of the trauma and stress from serving. I'll share some personal insight (my military time) and how Becker had a similar experience in the Army after WW2 liberating the death camps of Europe. Ernest Becker served in the infantry as well.

If you can, spend some time with this; take some notes and wrestle with the questions I asked (above) or your own. It's 40 minutes long, but worth every minute. 

Conversations With Solomon: War and Violence

The links to the show on Saturday:

Stream Yard: https://streamyard.com/tvn88jifd2

You Tube: https://www.youtube.com/live/AG2mKG-VrP0?si=Rar2IUvz-shViVLW

I hope you have a wonderful week, and I hope to see you Saturday! 

The Studio Q Show LIVE! September 7, 2024 at 1000 MST

Join Quinn on Saturday for a talk about the Ernest Becker Foundation's paper called, "Death Anxiety and Social Change." This paper explains how to approach these ideas both in your work and talking with other people about how death anxiety influences our day-to-day lives.

Stream Yard: https://streamyard.com/qw7aq7725j

You Tube: https://www.youtube.com/live/xrrVChZd-Nc?si=CedDtlW_xp8tdgw3

I Feel Pretty Good About This Painting

In some cultures, fish are believed to be messengers of the spirit world, connecting the living and the ancestors.
I've been painting and working with these two figures for a while. I did a painting that was very "primitive" using the drawing here of the homo sapien. The fish is something that I've been working around in ideas. This is multimedia piece; 9" x 12" paper, acrylic and cardboard.

“What the herd hates most is the one who thinks differently; it is not so much the opinion itself, but the audacity of wanting to think for themselves, something that they do not know how to do.”

— Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860)

The Studio Q Show LIVE! September 4, 2024 at 1700 MST

Join Quinn on Wednesday evening (September 4, 2024, at 1700 MST) for a talk with Dr. Sheldon Solomon, author of The Worm at the Core: On the Role of Death in Life. Quinn and Sheldon will talk about how artists differ in their response to death anxiety. What can an artist do to harness this powerful psychological phenomenon? Can the knowledge of our impending deaths make us more creative?