During my late teens, I became very interested in philosophy, mostly due to discovering the writings and talks of Jiddu Krishnamurti. That led to a frantic sampling of the philosophical/spiritual buffet line that lasted through my time in college. However, none of what I discovered during that time really satisfied me. It wasn’t enough. I wanted the whole story, not distorted pieces. I wanted a whole, coherent cosmology that actually explained the world. Fortunately, I finally came across the book The Disappearance of the Universe by Gary Renard, which introduced me to A Course in Miracles. Right then, I knew immediately that A Course in Miracles was exactly what I had been looking to find.
Shortly after discovering A Course in Miracles, and diving right into it, I started having visions (day dreams and night dreams) of ancient ruins, like Mayan ruins, covered with symbols that represented the teachings of A Course in Miracles. Visions of symbols were not exactly something new for me, I even had them when I was a child. But now, the symbols were becoming ever more clear and legible. It took me over a year before I ever actually sat down and tried to draw and map out the symbols. But once I did, I then started getting ideas about making a graphic novel about A Course in Miracles to introduce the symbols. (Click here to see the symbols from the book.)
I was reluctant about the graphic novel idea for many reasons. One reason was because I just wanted to privately learn and practice A Course in Miracles as it is, not explore its concepts by making a book. I actually like the density of A Course in Miracles. Plus, I pessimistically felt (with help from ego) that the world didn’t need another damn book. I felt like even if the book turned out really good, it would nonetheless probably just get lost in the Library of Babel that is the modern book publishing scene. So, instead of jumping right into pursuing the graphic novel, to test the feasibility of the project, I found myself compelled to first do some experiments (some of which were very tangential, weird, and retrospectively even a bit crazy).
Another few years passed until, in the beginning of 2009, enough pieces had fallen into place for me to lift my reluctance enough to pursue the project. I first wrote the script of the book, which was surprisingly easy. I just went with the flow. But once the drawing started, the progress slowed way down. However, after awhile, the drawings too began to flow. And The Universe Is a Dream is the result. I have a feeling this isn’t the end of the story of me and the book, but it is all I consciously know of so far.