The Dance of Reality: A Psychomagical Autobiography
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A glimpse into the mind and life of one of the most creative and enigmatic visionaries of our time, filmmaker Alejandro Jodorowsky
• Retraces the spiritual and mystical path Jodorowsky has followed since childhood, vividly repainting events from the perspective of an unleashed imagination
• Explores the development of the author’s psychomagic and metagenealogy practices via his realization that all problems are rooted in the family tree
• Includes photos from Jodorowsky’s appearance at the 2013 Cannes Film Festival and from the film based on this book, which debuted at Cannes
Retracing the spiritual and mystical path he has followed since childhood, Alejandro Jodorowsky re-creates the incredible adventure of his life as an artist, filmmaker, writer, and therapist--all stages on his quest to push back the boundaries of both imagination and reason.
Not a traditional autobiography composed of a chronological recounting of memories, The Dance of Reality repaints events from Jodorowsky’s life from the perspective of an unleashed imagination. Like the psychomagic and metagenealogy therapies he created, this autobiography exposes the mythic models and family templates upon which the events of everyday life are founded. It reveals the development of Jodorowsky’s realization that all problems are rooted in the family tree and explains, through vivid examples from his own life, particularly interactions with his father and mother, how the individual’s road to true fulfillment means casting off the phantoms projected by parents on their children.
The Dance of Reality is autobiography as an act of healing. Through the retelling of his own life, the author shows we do not start off with our own personalities, they are given to us by one or more members of our family tree. To be born into a family, Jodorowsky says, is to be possessed. To peer back into our past is equivalent to digging into our own souls. If we can dig deep enough, beyond familial projections, we shall find an inner light--a light that can help us through life’s most difficult tests.
Offering a glimpse into the mind and life of one of the most creative and enigmatic visionaries of our time, The Dance of Reality is the book upon which Jodorowsky’s critically acclaimed 2013 Cannes Film Festival film of the same name was based.
fingers. The sleeve of my white shirt was turning crimson, a tear in the fabric showed where I had been cut by a knife. The gate opened. The crowd ran shrieking out to the street, and in a couple of minutes I was left standing alone in the middle of the yard. Pale, but not crying or yelling, I showed the wound. “There was an accident. Two boys were playing with a penknife, and I got between them just when one of them was making a quick swipe. Luckily I lifted my arm; if I hadn’t the blade would
ankle. He who let me scream for a little while, then came to me laughing, pulled the suckers off my skin, bashed the animal against the rocks, then stuck his hand under the root of the tentacles and lifted the monster’s hood under my nose, turning it inside out. “They’re harmless. Don’t scream like a little girl; learn to be brave!” But how can a five-year-old child be brave when an adult forces him to hold onto his back, arms around his neck, as he runs into the raging ocean waves? There,
mother in order to be halfway accepted DanRea.indd 88 5/6/14 3:48 PM The Poetic Act 89 into this mediocre purgatory or being gouged like my father in order to show that he was not a pauper? Seeing them in a large crowd like this filled me with rage. An ax rested next to a big lime tree, the only one that graced the little garden. Driven by an irresistible urge, I took it and began to ferociously hack away at the trunk. Only many years later did I understand the crime I had committed. At
stutter. Seeing that money was scarce in that house and the fruit and chocolate were provided by the members of the group, I realized that their acceptance of me was a true sacrifice. Veronica, being idealistic, shared her vast cultural knowledge with me, as well as the few things she possessed, simply because she loved poetry. She is recorded in my memory as an angel. In this world so full of violence, whenever someone disappoints me I remember those sisters and console myself with the thought
with poems resulting from a sum of bodily movements. Stella, defying social prejudices, behaved as if the world were a ductile material that she could model at will. I asked the old bartender if he knew her. “Of course, young man, who doesn’t? She comes here often to write and drink beer. She used to work for the secret police, where she learned karate chops. Then she was a journalist, but they fired her for being too controversial. Now she’s a poet. The critic in El Mercurio says she’s better