"It would seem," Höller later reflected, "that plants grow better in contact with positive human sensations." But perhaps that's no surprise either, that how we bear witness to what's before us can hurt or nourish what's before us. Our environments have always been soft to the touch, defined by how we translate them: mine or ours or simply here, the place where we happened to enjoy the outrageous luxury of remaining momentarily alive together.
I have a friend who speaks of knowledge as an island in a sea of mystery. . . . We dredge up soil from the bed of mystery and build ourselves room to grow. And still the mystery surrounds us. It laps at our shores. It permeates the land. Scratch the surface of knowledge and mystery bubbles up like a spring.