Have we demonised the spiritual? Have we shackled it as a potentiality, chained it to the made stereotypes of organised religion and networked fundamentalism? Have we binaried it, made it white conservative and black fundamentalist – have we burnt it through the magnifying lens of the double-unwanted Other, the too-old-too-alien contemporary Frankensteinian bastard? Is the spiritual the driver of arcane and/or vilified practices? Or, is it now just that goofy intimation of the metaphysical that you can’t take to art parties? ‘This is Pappy Wassily; he’s really deaf, but he’s big into capturing the inner essence of things…aren’t you Pops?…I’m saying you’re BIG INTO CAPTURING THE ESSENCE OF THINGS!’ We’re all too down with the superstructure of artland and its insistent gaze upon the…