Millay’s poem, “First Fig,” took up permanent residence in my heart. In just four lines, this little gem consolidated all of my ambitions, my frustrations, my romantic idealizations. It was half blessing, half revenge.
“For me, the land and the farming, it feeds my artistic practice so much I don’t even know how to describe how much it does,” Bouwsma says. ““The connection to physical work, the connection to landscape, the sort of constant conversation between body and landscape that develops through that kind of work is really important. It feeds probably everything I will ever write.”
