The Drift Farm is an education in generational thinking. It’s a family focus. Sometimes, it’s a frank reflection of personal failure. But the mistakes and disappointments are only the slippery steps up a beautiful mountain slope. This is farming, after all. When you pause for breath and look around at the view, the stumbling is forgotten. You realise, you are still going forward and upward for all the right reasons. What a privilege. Your eyes and nose and lungs are flooded with freshness and this seeps into your soul. Your weariness disappears. You feel more. You sense more. You can’t help smiling, and it starts in your heart. Life, and this clamorous endeavour called living, are put into perspective.
Art is the means we have of undoing the damage of haste.
It’s what everything else isn’t. Theodore Roethke
At the Guggenheim in New York, my wife and I visited a wonderfully engaging Picasso exhibition – enhanced by Frank Lloyd Wright’s numinous building.
Picasso’s enigmatic, edginess reverberated through the clever staging. He seems to have had a few midlife crises himself, but his art still ignites something and we left rather elated.
On the walk back to my sister’s apartment, we chatted about how great art – whatever the medium, can make you feel differently about yourself, the world, even life and death. Great art can stir something deep inside the computer that is the human brain. It affects those inner worlds we call our heart and our soul – realms we often visit, but can never cognitively grasp.