I wasn't allowed to watch much TV growing up. My sister and I each got to choose one hour per week. Mine was MacGuyver. To fill the other idle indoor childhood hours, my folks had the notion to surround me with a particular yellow magazine: National Geographic. Hundreds of issues, harvested from the local thrift stores, lined our shelves floor to ceiling. They dated back decades. I arranged them chronologically and knew the precise location of my favorites -- remember the holographic covers? Spread out on the carpeted living-room floor I would float for hours on a sea of chrome. I was there, in my mind, so very far away.
Many of my dreams and passions are a direct result of those individual photographers, writers, and editors who showed me Earth as they witnessed it. It is on this compass heading in which you find me.
We are the witnesses through which the universe becomes conscious of its' glory .
- Alan Watts