epis
Poetry
LAST SLOPE
Winterlust crinkled along the forest trails,
Camp robbers nuzzled close
For evening’s warmth.
Lte rays leaned here and there
On pine-edged crests
Where tiny springs’ drops
Had run nervously
From white-tressed needles.
Soon my love would stir from sleep,
Sigh and sing again.
The cold challenge would fade away
Under soft caress
Of burdgeoning winds –
My dreams will change anew
The Most Rev. George T. Boileau, S. J.
February 22, 1965
Seattle, Washington
Prescience
Aquamarine pooled water
Forest green sentinels
dark and light
freckled pine, phthalo, persian, olive.
chlorophyll pulsing blood
life death
slate sky horizontal bands of light
rolling forward to greet me
crows overhead checking me
bothering wind, pushing to get my…
attention…
no caress here. Insistent
pushy ..pushing
on
my
heart…
open harder
open wider
bleed
By Nazarita Goldhammer
Current Events – Fall 2012
New Headquarters for EPIS
We are pleased to announce that our main office has moved to the following address:
EPIS
31 Fort Missoula Rd.
Ste. 4
Missoula, MT 59804
Articles
Please click below to view the articles as a digital publication.
Staff
PRESENCING EPIS
A Scientific Journal of Applied Phenomenology & Psychoanalysis
Staff
Executive Editor: Dr. Kevin Boileau, Ph.D., J.D.
Managing Editor: Dr. Richard Curtis, Ph.D.
Student Editor: Ms. Molly Knell
Director of Production: Ms. Nazarita Goldhammer
Layout and Formatting: Ms. Tia Hopkins
Book Reviews: Dr. Peter Wright, N.D.
Manager of Art: Ms. Beth Moga, M.F.A.
Prescience
Aquamarine pooled water
Forest green sentinels
dark and light
freckled pine, phthalo, persian, olive.
chlorophyll pulsing blood
life death
slate sky horizontal bands of light
rolling forward to greet me
crows overhead checking me
bothering wind, pushing to get my…
attention…
no caress here. Insistent
pushy ..pushing
on
my
heart…
open harder
open wider
bleed
By Nazarita Goldhammer
Last Slope
LAST SLOPE
Winterlust crinkled along the forest trails,
Camp robbers nuzzled close
For evening’s warmth.
Lte rays leaned here and there
On pine-edged crests
Where tiny springs’ drops
Had run nervously
From white-tressed needles.
Soon my love would stir from sleep,
Sigh and sing again.
The cold challenge would fade away
Under soft caress
Of burdgeoning winds –
My dreams will change anew
The Most Rev. George T. Boileau, S. J.
February 22, 1965
Seattle, Washington
Self
Self
Elizabeth Moga, M.F.A.
Despair
Despair
Elizabeth Moga, M.F.A.
Husserl’s Psychological…
Husserl’s Psychological Phenomenology: Inverting the Transcendental