In Chinese and Japanese painting you do not look in from outside at an
opposite, for the subject and every detail of it are seen so intensely
from the inside that the beholder must himself be in the picture, must
live in it, in order to do it justice.

Not only does perspective become so pointless that it disappears
altogether, but the relation of observer to observed is abolished.

Space closes around the observer, who now stands everywhere in the center
without being the center: he is now in their midst, one with the heartbeat
of things.

And in turn, what surrounds and encloses him is so much his own equal
that he feels it is not there just for him and for his sake.

It is not an opposite but, as it were, himself in ever-changing form.

They are so at one that he no longer has a meaning of his own; he is
submerged in it and, vanishing with it, encounters himself and yet not
himself: an evanescence in the essence of things.

	- Eugen Herrigal, *The Method of Zen*