Esteemed Reader

Esteemed Reader

Jason Stern remarks upon real and subjective events in terms of conciseness.

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Esteemed Reader

Once when I was a child I was stricken with fever. It must have been before they invented oral thermometers because the frequent rectal ordeal—truly unpleasant in my weakened state—gave a steady reading of 104 degrees.

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Esteemed Reader

When we conceived Chronogram 24 years ago, we had a clear intention: The magazine was to be an example, or paradigm, of the creative work and the community brought to light within its fold.

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Esteemed Reader

Jason Stern reflects on his decision to give up criticism for Lent.

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Esteemed Reader: On Selfishness

Jason Stern shares insights from teaching a children's meditation class.

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Esteemed Reader

Jason Stern writes about a brief encounter with profound wisdom at the post office.

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Esteemed Reader: Holy Fools

Jason Stern attends a performance of Dzieci Theater's “Fool’s Mass” at the Old Dutch Church in Kingston.

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Esteemed Reader for December 2015

Jason Stern survives a run-in with the police.

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The Route to the Tomb

Like most of the once burgeoning religious sites in Uzbekistan, this one was empty save the sweeper. After 70 years of Communism and a new government intent on keeping sects and fundamentalists out of the country, the madrasas are closed and people stay away from the mosques other than on important holidays.

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Esteemed Reader—October 2015

Participating with underlying forces is not simply a matter of exploiting resources as the principles of capitalism guide, for to be harmonious with the reality both invokes and requires gratitude.

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Esteemed Reader: Is it Full?

Mr. Zimmerman, my 11th grade chemistry teacher, was nearing retirement, and his impatience with the profession was beginning to show. But there was one lesson that stayed with me from the year I spent in his classroom.

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Esteemed Reader: The Painting is Finished

Shards of sunlight swirled around the kitchen table, refracted by a crystal hanging from a string inside the window. Like daytime fireflies, the light-specks moved across the walls and faces of two young children sitting in chairs in front of watercolor paintings, brushes in hand.

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Esteemed Reader: The Braided Matrix

Three things happened recently, events that are woven together in my being as a braided matrix. I can share two of these trials, and the third must remain a secret, as is only lawful.

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Esteemed Reader: The Drunkards and the Tavern

I'm sharing a poem I learned from a Persian dervish. We sang it in Farsi, together with complex rhythms on dumbeks, daffs, and zarbs. Those who knew how would play the melody on the ney, setar, and kemancheh, all traditional Persian instruments.

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Esteemed Reader: Learning How to Learn

There's a disposition that combines artistry and warriorship, looking to each situation as an opportunity for both creation and work on oneself. Only to do the more difficult thing is a peculiar form of masochism; but to insistently choose the course that is both difficult and creative, thus steadily threading life with series of bold creative events, is to choose a life that is real.

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Esteemed Reader: Death and Dying

The religions, philosophies, and intimacies behind death and dying.

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