About three months ago, I found myself focused on the insistent worries, and self-reflective mires that plague type A, artistic types like me... that, along with the unshakeable feeling that I wasn't doing enough for other people. The loud, wailing sirens of the city that used to have a romantic allure, instead, seemed to ring right through me and I was faced with the question: How on earth do I get out of here?
The pace, the ready internet connection, the over zealous tweets and wall postings, impersonal text messages and a growing sense of anonymity in a city full of people has made me want to chase its counter opposite; human connection, a return to working with my hands on tangible projects, investing in process rather than product, and searching for a quality of life that is slow, generous, and FUN.
Why a farm? My love for the environment probably stems from growing up in the Hudson Valley, frequent trips to Bear Mountain, a tangle of woods to play in as a child, my mothers vibrant flower garden, and my father's unrelenting passion for finding ways to attach solar panels onto our roof. So when I read the New York Times Article "City Slickers Take to the Crops, With Song", I knew I had found my personal Xanadu.
Sylvestor Manor is a 243-acre educational farm. Once a former slave plantation, the property has also been a native-american hunting and fishing ground, a bustling 18th century farm, and the estate of a famous food chemist. Now in its second full year of operation, the farm attracts everyone from locavores, to the green-minded and the nature deprived urbanite in the raising of fruits, vegetables and livestock. The Manor serves as a destination for educational workshops, concerts, and events which explore the culture of food and place.
And I'm going there. For two weeks. I bought a one-way ticket on the Hampton Jitney and soon I'll be by the ocean, on a farm, starting my own personal revolution. Can't wait.
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