One of my early destinations in the fall of 1984 was Hangzhou. I immediately fell in love with West Lake, the lotus, and the couples being photographed in their wedding dresses regardless of the weather. Returning nearly every year, throughout the seasons, seemingly most often in the heat of summer and it's terrible storms, I often wait for the sun to appear. Lotus stems and leaves permeate the perimeter of the lake, even obscuring the water. Without bright sun, the stem and its reflections merge, creating mysteriously ambiguous lines, that don't seem to begin or end with any visual logic. Lotus eventually became an obsession. Other transformations also held my interest: the urban deconstruction and construction occurring throughout the city; the subtle, then dramatic sprucing up of the areas around the Lake, the creation of the new West Lake and Ten New Scenes that go with it. When you look north over the landscape from high up in the rebuilt Leifeng Pagoda, the Lake takes on the appearance of the paintings and woodblock prints that I studied long before I came to Hangzhou. At another glance, catching sight of the long row of skyscrapers to the east, the vision dissipates. The modern façade promises another kind of beauty.

When I can't work, I drink Dragon Well tea with friends at Hupan Ju 湖畔居, studying the endless Bai Causeway between sips.