When I was very young I lived with my family on the shores of a vast salt lake. We moved to the city when I was four – the country was left behind and never revisited. My childhood memories are of suburban streets and holidays on the beach. The inland lake and the flat plains surrounding it became a mythic land I visited only in dreams.
Returning to the lake shore now, all these decades later, my eyes are stretched into a haze of blue. Is this what I saw as a baby? Did my infant eyes attempt to focus on the horizon only to drift into illusory realms where nothing is quite as it seems? Did this vision of infinite possibilities, probabilities and improbabilities influence my approach to life? – the landscape as a Buddhist primer for babies.
(elements of this post appeared on my old blog “Art and Life” is a different format)