It’s close to 3 p.m. as Christopher Rowland slides into a booth in one of his favorite restaurants, the time his brain really revs into gear. “I’ve tried my hardest to get up at the crack of dawn, but I don’t really see until mid-afternoon,” he comments. He’s forgotten his contacts and squints at the menu. “Focus, Chris, focus,” he tells himself. It’s something he’s told himself a million times, particularly during “the fuzzy paintings phase” when his nearsighted eye would see things one way, while his far-sighted companion reported things differently, resulting in long, Dali-like people and landscapes.
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