The Wandering Bark

Home again after a restorative, generative, and nourishing retreat to Space on Ryder Farm.

Myself and a group of other performer/artists ate beautifully prepared food with Ryder's organic produce, roasted marshmallows over a bonfire or two and engaged in the kind of challenging discourse that generates startling creative and personal discoveries.  We stargazed in the middle of an open field, made new acquaintances, and delved deeper into old ones.

 There's something about being in the country, largely disconnected from the internet and cellphone, that encourages a stillness in one's self.  The rustle of trees, the simplicity of the days seasonal shifts, and the refreshing disproportion of strange insects and wild animals to people, makes one feel that they are more a part of the whole rather than at the center of it.  For three days, I managed to quiet my neurotic din to a low hush and for a moment the only things I could hear was the crowing of the rooster, the orchestral hum of the crickets, people's laughter, and the clinking of water carafes.

Heaven.

And it's these things that I think fundamentally keep us in a state of balance; a simple, natural environment, an intimate group of people, and gorgeous food.  The result is the opening of a space within ourselves and between each other where we can form authentic bonds and sow creative seeds.  

The question is:  How do we create that in a concrete jungle?

While I was feeling the withdrawal of this past weekends solace, I stumbled across KINFOLK; an online publication helmed by a community of artists interested in small gatherings and a natural approach to entertaining.  I read it from cover to cover; a rarity when I'm tempted to click over to another window after two minutes.  The photography, writing, and multimedia was a stunning look at how design and art can mix with the tradition of spending time with the people we love.

Let's find a way to connect more often, shall we?

Kinfolk from VsTheBrain on Vimeo.