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-Dust and Shadow was mythological from the beginning. Stories wrapped in stories, wrapped in ever more stories. There were stories we told the Administrators about the relevance of the project, about its importance for thinking sustainable futures in the desert southwest. There were stories we told ourselves about what the project was really about, about how it was establishing critical and speculative distance from technocratic solutionism and the business-as-usual approach to sustainability. And then there were stories we constructed about how Professors, thoroughly embedded within an enterprising research university, could work with nomadic practitioners and activists who have long rejected the Academy. There were also stories we told ourselves about responsibility and ownership. Whose project was it, really? Deleuze and Guattari remind us that microfascisms are everywhere, and this is nowhere more apparent than in a collaborative project. Then there were stories about how this was going to end. How do we put this project to bed? Or do we? Maybe it ends right where it began: in search of new myths, but with no answers and only more questions.
+Dust and Shadow was mythological from the beginning. Stories wrapped in stories, wrapped in ever more stories. Stories we told about the scope of the project, about its relevance for thinking sustainable futures in the desert southwest. Stories we told ourselves about what the project was really about, establishing critical and speculative distance from technocratic solutionism and business-as-usual. There were stories we constructed about how we could work together as Professors, nomadic practitioners and activists. And there were always stories about how it was going to end. How do we conclude this story? Or do we? Maybe it continues or maybe it ends right where it began: in search of old and new myths.
-The Center for Philosophical Technologies has its own story about Dust and Shadow of course. In our version, the project began in a family residency in Brussels with FoAM. There, the Moran-Nocek family began asking questions about how to transform animism and other occult and non-modern practices into a praxeology for the contemporary world. These questions were in many ways at the core of the Laboratory for Critical Technics, which morphed into The Center for Philosophical Technologies (CPT) in 2018. How might we transform philosophy into a technics for thinking-feeling-practicing otherwise? And what could be in more need of this philosophical technicity than a sprawling urban center in the middle of the desert? Phoenix: a city that should not have been built in the first place. Our Field Marshall in the desert, Ron Broglio,  was the missing link. He made it possible to work with FoAM in the desert and to begin crafting technics for living and dwelling otherwise.
+The Center for Philosophical Technologies has its own story about Dust & Shadow of course. In our version, the project began during a family residency with FoAM in Brussels. There, we began asking questions about how to transform animism and other non-modern practices into a praxeology for the contemporary world. These questions were in many ways at the core of the Laboratory for Critical Technics, which morphed into The Center for Philosophical Technologies (CPT) in 2018.
-Paul Ricouer once noted in an interview that there is an //“imaginary nucleus”// at the center of every culture, and this nucleus is the culture’s //“opaque kernel”// that exceeds all self-understanding and is irreducible to any set of //“explicit functions—political, economic legal, etc”// (Ricoeur and Kearney, “Dialogue With Paul Ricoeur,” 236). It is only when we //“try to grasp that kernel,”// Ricoeur explains, //“that we may discover the foundational mytho-poetic nucleus of a society”// (239). And what became readily apparent to us, as we researched the urban desert, as we listened to it, and as we tried to make sense of its many contradictory elements, is that the mythical nucleus upon which its neoliberal and technocratic logics are built needed to be redesigned. We needed to design new myths. We needed new stories upon which to build and redirect our practices.
+How might we transform philosophy into a technics for thinking-feeling-practicing otherwise? And what could be in more need of this philosophical technicity than a sprawling urban center in the middle of the desert? Our Field Marshal, Ron Broglio, was the missing link. He made it possible to work with FoAM in the desert and to begin crafting technics for living and dwelling otherwise.
-But how do we go about this? How do we go about redesigning the stories of progress, development, and competition that we have inherited and so easily reproduce? We knew that our myths had to function like antidotes to the stories that have poisoned our relation to the desert for so many generations. They also needed to be rooted in and attentive to Indigenous ways of knowing and being-with the desert. Our counter-mythology therefore needed to be an amulet capable of protecting us from the many seductive and poisonous narratives circulating in the sustainability discourse today. Our design work looked more like witchcraft than any recognizable human-centered approach to sustainability design. For this reason, our work had to be carefully staged and lurk in the shadows of sustainable development, for fear that our sorcery would be discovered.
+Paul Ricouer once noted in an interview that there is an “//imaginary nucleus//” at the center of every culture, and this nucleus is the culture’s “opaque kernel” that exceeds all self-understanding and is irreducible to any set of “//explicit functions—political, economic legal, etc//” (Ricoeur and Kearney, “Dialogue With Paul Ricoeur,” 236). It is only when we “//try to grasp that kernel,//” Ricoeur explains, “//that we may discover the foundational mytho-poetic nucleus of a society//” (239).
-Our desert laboratory therefore doubled as a secret lair for occult practices where stories and rituals for soulful technologies, gnostic healing, and mystical pedagogy could be woven. The first experiments or spells cast aimed to redirect human attention toward the many layers of sonic experience that tend to be cast aside or dismissed in the endless search to optimize sustainable technologies. Many questions about the sonic walk have yet to be answered and the effects of the spell are just beginning to take hold. If the walk and album look like recognizable outcomes, deliverables that check an administrative box, then this is a good thing: the amulet worked.
+What became readily apparent to us, as we researched the urban desert, as we listened to it, and as we tried to make sense of its many contradictory elements, is that the mythical nucleus upon which its neoliberal and technocratic logics are built needed a redesign. We need new myths. We need new stories upon which to build and redirect our practices.
-We see Dust & Shadow as one of many attempts to pry open the cracks in our cultural imaginary and craft propositions for protection, healing, and thriving in a world that is in dire need of more shadowy practices.
+But how do we go about this? How do we rewrite the stories of progress, development, and competition that we have inherited and so easily reproduce? We knew that our myths could function as antidotes to the stories poisoning our relation to the desert for so many generations. They should also be attentive to indigenous ways of knowing and being-with the desert. Our counter-mythology would be an amulet capable of protecting us from the many seductive, yet treacherous sustainability narratives. Our design work appeared more like witchcraft than any recognizable human-centered approach to sustainability design. It had to be carefully staged and lurk in the shadows.
+Our desert laboratory doubled as a secret lair for occult practices where stories and rituals for parallel technologies, gnostic healing, and mystical pedagogy could be woven. The first experiments or spells cast would redirect human attention toward the many layers of sonic experience. Their effects are just beginning to take hold. If a soundwalk and album look like recognizable outcomes, then this is a good thing: the amulet worked.
+We see Dust & Shadow as one of many ongoing attempts to pry open the cracks in our cultural imaginary and craft propositions for protection, healing, and thriving in a world that is in dire need of more shadowy practices.