Gnostic Brooklyn (2015)

I was walking home through Clinton Hill when I met a wizard. He wore a conical straw hat and a cloak of many colors and was in the process of casting a spell, squatting down by the foundation stone of the Orient Temple, speaking an incantation and waving a burning twist of sage. He looked as if he’d stepped off the cover of a free jazz record from the early 1970s. As I stopped in front of him, he nodded to me, then carried on with his incantation. It seemed he did not want to be disturbed...

An essay for Catapult on occult undercurrents in Brooklyn