The Philosophy of Borders

A brown haired, green-eyed girl meanders around the only part of the city that isn’t shaped in a square. The layout grid of the rest of the city doesn’t apply to this spot. Yes she’s a little girl, but why is it that “little” people are fascinated with every detail that the “older” more “adult” people completely and utterly ignore? It is because of ignorance or lack or arrogance? One can never know, but on this particular day, Annie noticed how the narrow road in Central Park curves. The streets don’t usually turn this way, she thought as the turned the curve to yet another grassy area. She could tell she was nearing the water because the smell of algae was filling the air molecules around her. She knew the exact spot in which the smell would envelop her. That moment quickened the pace of not only her steps, but also her heartbeats.

The water was a mystery. What was underneath its surface? A whole other world with its own shops, schools and restaurants, thought Annie. Someday, she continued, I’ll get a snorkel and some goggles and go live in that world under water. The world would be one in which everyone would be happy to see her and invite her in for a blueberry scone and some tea. It would be easy to make friends, and even easier to keep them. Instead of flowers, from the ground would sprout lollipops of every color of the rainbow. You can pick any color you want, and as soon as you pick it, another grows right in its place.

Every Sunday, Annie anticipated being in this spot. You see, by now she has reached the exact spot where she stands in expectation of a certain feeling. It’s an awe-inspiring feeling of happiness, wonder, and eagerness. The very sentiments that seem to escape the “adults.” Annie closes her eyes, takes a deep breath from the tip of her toes and imagines the lollipops. Maybe, she thinks, if I close my eyes and open them as fast as I can I’ll see the world underwater. Ever since Annie read The Little Princess, she knew for a fact that imaginary worlds go to sleep as soon as a human looks in its vicinity so as not to be seen. But Annie wanted so badly to see. She wanted to join it, not destroy it. 1, 2, 3, OPEN! Nothing. I guess I wasn’t fast enough, she thinks.

“Annie! Annie!” came a familiar yet distant voice from around the curve. Annie knew who it was and that she should probably answer, but she wasn’t at all concerned with the sound of her name. The distressed voice would soon get close and the distress would subside. The voice was that of her father. Annie has never been able to understand her father. The way he acts puzzles her, and she doesn’t like his job, rather she doesn’t understand it. He’s a painter you see, he paints landscapes. His paintings are quite famous.

It’s just that Annie can’t understand why he would want to paint on a piece of paper or a canvas because no matter how big the piece of paper, you can never illustrate the entire picture. It’s only visible in one dimension and angle. Annie hated for the land to be robbed. It doesn’t look like that in real life, she would often think. One specific day Annie’s father painted a very specific spot. Her spot. “It doesn’t look like that Daddy,” she had said. “Yes it does Annie. Don’t be a child,” he had replied.

From then on, she didn’t like any of his paintings. In Annie’s humble opinion, and it is humble, no one can contain the beauty of nature in with paint on a piece of paper. If you want to see the art of nature, go outside. In her case, it’s go to Central Park and look up, look down; look at the water because the majesty is everywhere. It encircles her every Sunday.

Eventually, Annie’s father finds her. He tells her not to run off. “I have work to do,” he explains. As they get farther and farther away from her spot, she closes her eyes and whips her head around one last time as fast as she can to see if her friends are waving goodbye. They’re so fast, she thinks.

Let’s go back in time, not to another century, but simply to a different time. A young boy, whose green eyes resemble Annie’s, stands in a particular spot, eyes closed… 1, 2, 3, Open!