I’ve just come back from a week of backpacking in the Sierra Nevada. The first day we got altitude sickness, by the second day my lips became so dry they cracked, we didn’t bring enough whiskey to last us beyond the third evening, by the fourth evening all we had left to eat was instant potatoes, and the last two nights temperatures were below freezing and below the dew point so that our down quilts got wet and lost most of their insulation, preventing us from sleeping. I loved every minute of it.
Each time I spend a few days in the woods and forests, sleeping under the stars and staring at campfires, I resent having to return to civilization. Some of that resentment is due to the constraints of everyday life: Alarm clocks, emails that need answering, children that need to be taken care of. But I feel there’s another reason that is related to the absence of fractals in our civilization.

Modern design, art and architecture avoid anything that’s ornamental. Most buildings from before 1950 have some decorative design elements but hardly any that were built in the last 75 years do. It’s similar for interior design: We prefer clean lines, bright colors and the absence of clutter. It’s a look I quite like myself.
Nature is different. Rocks, water and vegetation never present completely even surfaces. They are endlessly varied at any scale. The smallest pebble will have many irregularities if you look at it closely. Plants, water and clouds constantly rearranges themselves in new patterns that we perceive not just visually but with all our senses. Jim Harrison‘s ability to capture this is one of the reasons I love his books.
In contrast, the average modern house or office is like a sensory deprivation tank. Potted plants and abstract art can slightly alleviate this, but it’s not enough. If we’re lucky, we see a tree outside the window, but we look at it for only a few seconds before we return to our monitor.
Is this absence of visual variety impoverishing our lives and make us less content? I have no evidence of this beyond my own experience, but I feel it merits further consideration.