The wall before me was covered in thick ivy that had grown over the years. The ivy was strong and the leaves very green. Yet there was just a hint in the shape of the green covering that suggested there might be something behind it. Bit by bit, I tore off the resisting stems until the red, crumbling bricks of the wall were revealed. I searched for many years, tearing away the ivy which, neglected, soon grew again. Then one day I noticed that there was wood beneath the ivy, and as I carefully took off the leaves and stems I saw that this was a wooden structure and it was the shape of a door.I examined the door, noticing the strong wood panels, the square strong frame, the veins of the deep oak wood. There was no doorknob, no keyhole and no key. The door stood in the wall, mute and mysterious. Why was it there? What was on the other side? Would I ever be able to open it?
In my dream a man stood in the open doorway. How was it that the door had opened? Beyond the tall figure of the man there was a strange landscape that I thought I knew, but I woke up and the dream faded from my memory, leaving only a sense of loss and isolation.
I grew angry at the mute and silent square shape of the door and I threw myself against it and beat upon it with my fists. I knew that if I could only open the door then I would know what was on the other side. I could not go on with my life until I saw that strange landscape that my heart already knew about but my mind could not encompass. I was obsessed.
