How easy it is to limit ourselves!
How effortlessly and gently we fall into complacency — content in a landscape surrounded by fences, or circumscribing our physical and mental beings to the space allotted by cubicle walls.
“Ah, but we need fences and walls and barriers,” is the wisdom. “Without them, the wolves get in and the cows get out.”
And that is very true.
But there is another side, to the fence, so to speak.
When we compliantly accept all the fences and walls, the barricades and balustrades that hem us in and keep them out, we find ourselves — with the cows — limited by the size of our paddock. And no matter how big that paddock is, if we want to see what is outside of it — if we want to try something new, question the way things have always been done, pursue an uncharted course — in other words, if we desire a life beyond that of a cow, then the fence will imprison us.
The artwork, Ladycamp, shows us a landscape without fences. Because this remote spot is in a wilderness area, nobody technically owns it, so there are no walls to keep the rabble out, or the masses in. One is free to hike through the trees, to climb the hills, to explore the woods and experience their wonder and their beauty.
A rare and unusual place, Ladycamp takes work and determination (and a decent vehicle) to get to.
It is not an easy landscape to traverse, nor will one do so quickly. If our goal is to get from one spot to another as effortlessly as possible with no need to change our shoes, then an interior, carpeted hallway between offices is the most efficient route. But if we’re patient and perseverant, and our goal is to explore someplace a bit wild, not neatly docketed and planned, and definitely different from the daily norm, then we will benefit greatly by spending some time here — whether “here” is a physical, touchable place, or a state of being, thought, and belief.
The important thing is that we’re not fenced in.
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