Swimming Lessons

"The mathematician goes mad, not the poet, because the mathematician tries to build a bridge across the infinite when the poet can swim in the sea."
--Donald Miller

The poet can swim in the sea of the infinite...

Real, lasting, good poetry does this, deals with the infinite, is soaked full of it. Likewise is the poet: because his subject, his medium is contained in and deals primarily with things of infinite value, he is granted or learns or obtains the ability to dive headlong into the infinite and delve in and around, to wander and wallow and "swim" in it.

And not just the poet, but included in that title are artists of all forms.

Now, this is not to say that the mathematician is barred from participation in the infinite, but to do so he must abandon his attempts to circumvent or overcome the infinite.

Either that, or he must connect or incorporate the infinite into his activities. He must give up the bridge in favor of, say, a boat, or a bridge that runs just under the surface, something that finds the infinite in his own work, or sends his work into the infinite.

Or perhaps he could build a platform on which to rest after a swim in the infinite, for doing so is a wearisome task.