I reckon most folks take comfort in the sleeping and waking and eating and dreaming and doing that is familiar surroundings. There is ample reason a home is where the heart is and I can't deny the reassurance a firm mattress and goose down pillows offer after enduring the red eye. 
Be that as it may, a heart can wander. Make no mistake, The Urban Art Farm is firmly rooted in Gotham, however, I find myself quite enjoying a change of scenery from time to time. It is the unfamiliarity, traversing the road less traveled, that offers this farmer nourishment. When habitation becomes hibernation, it's high time to visit greener pastures.
The finest aspect of the Farm is that it's not limited by geography! The Farm touches folks of all walks in all corners. A few weeks ago, fellow Farmer, Marilyn Pedalino, made her annual summer pilgrimage back west. In turn, she graciously offered me residency on her north shore homestead on Long Island where I could plant and paint uninterrupted. Just one hour out of the city, the expedition proved to be a bountiful break from the asphalt pasture that is Manhattan.
Sea Cliff, Long Island is a jewel of a creative enclave. It's charms are beguiling and at times I felt I had woken on a movie sound stage. It's the stuff that fiction and yester-year are made of. Winding roads, hidden lanes, hammocks and hollyhocks. Breezy, billowy, carefully cared for. A rickety fence, bubbled glass, patchwork walks of brick and slate. Porches! What lovely, lazy glorious porches! Pungent sunsets and fireflies. Perfectly imperfect perfection.
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