"My first view of the ocean came as an awakening. Of course I must have seen the ocean before, but this is my earliest and most vivid recollection of it. I spied it from a Tokaido Line train, the seascape passing from left to right. It must have been autumn, because the sky had such vast, eye-opening clarity. We were riding high on a cliff, and the sea flickered far below like frames of a motion picture, only to disappear suddenly behind the rocks. The horizon line where the azure sea met the brilliant sky was razor sharp, like a samurai sword's blade. Captivated by this startling yet oddly familiar scene, I felt I was gazing on a primordial landscape. Perhaps it is strange that a child should have prelife memories, much less words to express them. The experience left an indelible mark on me. Today, the cliff-top train tracks are long gone, and a newer, safer line now bores--in both senses--a long, dark tunnel."
(Hiroshi Sugimoto, "The Times of My Youth, Images from Memory," Hiroshi Sugimoto, exh. cat., Ostfildern, 2010, p. 12).