One of my favorite quotes about art is from British musician, producer, and genius conceptualizer, Brian Eno.
"Art is not an object, but a trigger for experience."
In other words, the value is not just within the thing. The value is what happens within you when you look at (or listen to) the thing.
I once heard Eno give a lecture describing an architect who designs from the perspective of how a space feels when you’re within it, rather than how it appears by some other measure. If the window is higher, how does that change your experience of the space?
Same idea.
A trigger for experience.
As I was working on gates with some kind and generous volunteers last weekend, I kept bumping into this idea. I kept thinking about how preparing Rivendell for its purpose as a sanctuary differs so much from how we would simply prepare a home.
One might consider where to place a bench because of how it looks, its proportions to other things around it, its eye appeal. Or you can place it in a spot because the view from that very spot is, well, sublime. With an eye towards what the experience is - of sitting on that bench.
We aim for a place that is chock-full of “triggers for an experience." Places to relax in the midst of our animal friends. Places with seating in a circle, inviting conversations where everyone is equidistant. Places to rest where you can gaze at a view we have custom curated. Trails designed to be as much about the plants along the way as the creek at the end. And not just for us humans. What will the cows look at when they are under shade? Will they feel safe there?
Kelly’s working on a little meditation garden up top. It’s coming along nicely. It’s cool to watch her process, when she designs. Shifting things slightly to get them just right. Responding to the prompts from her intuition. I look forward to sitting there in the early morning hours, and seeing what experience unfolds for me.
I have also been thinking about gates, since we now have some! Gates can be seen in a couple of different ways. Certainly they keep undesirable things out. We love coyotes, but they have a “conflict of interest” with our intentions here. Gates protect us and our animal inhabitants from those who would do us harm.
But there is another side to gates.
Gates often separate worlds. This reality on one side, that reality on the other side. I think of the giant gate at the entrance to Jurassic park. On one side it is the Anthropocene. On the other side, the Cretaceous (spoiler: T-Rex did not live in the Jurassic period). The great gate at the entrance to Disneyland is another example.
At Rivendell, perhaps the gate will similarly divide two worlds. On one side, a place where animals are often products, commodities, servants. On the other side, they are family: unique, curious, and valued individuals.
Just 20 feet of farm gate, separating one world from the other.
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