I accompanied my partner to an opening at an art gallery late last year; one of his old friends was exhibiting his latest paintings. At one point in the evening I found myself at the edge of the crowd, looking on at the artist with his posse of friends. Like him, they’ve all had careers as creatives. A sober realisation dawned: This will be the last generation to make a living from the Arts. AI may take whatever little jobs there are left for artists

A picture is worth a thousand words: this well-known adage established the superiority of the visual art form over the written word. While most of us will accept this on its face value, a cursory visit to any contemporary art exhibition will quickly challenge even the most ardent believer. It has become near-impossible to fathom contemporary art without reading a thousand-word preamble first.

This piece is less a critique of Disclosure Day, the new UFO movie by Spielberg, and more of a discussion on why Spielberg made Disclosure Day (although I do critique it at the end). If the interviews with the legendary director are anything to go by, the man is a true believer. Judging by his body of work in the alien genre, perhaps he always was. What has become clear, however, is that he caught the same bug I did back in 2017. The difference is that I moved on while Spielb

If you had to pick one word to describe the current state of the world, what would you say? I'd hasten a guess that no one opted for calm, peaceful or indeed, uplifting. Perhaps it was fitting then, that for the final Willow the Wonderer book in the series I left the external world behind and delved instead into the worlds that lie within—our inner worlds, after all, are places we can condition and control. The central lesson in Inner Worlds only presented itself this past we

Clap! My hands, came together as I became fully aware that my life was finite and I would die some day. I was 10 years old. I remember thinking that I have only a limited time to achieve my life goals and so made a pact with myself that I would make haste, hopefully fulfill them and make death bring closure to my life with another clap. This action (clapping) I later surmised was my way of demarcating the movie of my life, much like a movie set clapperboard might punctuate th