She has always felt fearful in this graceful, tranquil space, a fear rooted in the powerful menacing tension that pervades Japanese gardens, one akin to a life-or-death battle, springing from the sharp separation between the observer and the observed. The observer and the observed. In the end, I was the observer, I suppose, she thinks, standing fixed to the spot, gazing at the framed square of garden. She was always one of the observed, and she knew it.
