I have arrived here tired and thirsty. I have travel far already. Here is the edge of a vast, dry, desert. I can feel the hot, dusty, wind blow past me.
In the far horizon I see mountains, or is it a mirage? I cannot stay here. I must keep moving forward; but between here and there I see nothing but sand; nothing to sustain life.
If I attempt to cross I feel I will not survive and the desert sands will cover me and it will be as though I have never been. Yet I hear you call my name on the wind from the other side. And so...I step forward.
(From a journal entry in 1992)