The meaning of "landscape" in Gerald Murnane's fiction

To understand the work of Australian writer Gerald Murnane you have to develop some understanding of his use of what appears to be his favorite word: landscape (I'm reading his 1987 collection of 6 linked stories, Landscape with Landscape). His use of this word is so odd (as is so much of his writing) that you'd almost think it's an awkward translation from another language. But, no; rather, he's proposing a new meaning of sense of the familiar English word. He clearly does not mean landscape in the pastoral, poetic, artistic, or photographic sense; when he talks about his works creating a "landscape" or about a character - most of his characters seem to be portraits of the author in various forms and stages of development - who dwells upon a particular landscape, he seems to reference an place that he's never seen or visited and that, in fact, he makes little or no effort to conjure or describe in the manner of most "nature" writers. For ex., in the 4th story in the collection, he describes younger version of himself, aspiring to become a writer, who becomes obsessed with the poetry of Houseman (Shropshire Lad in particular, and the desire to enter into H's prototypical English landscape - although that landscape is, as he knows, a fiction that AEH created in his verse. Similarly, in the 3rd - and extremely painful - story in the collection (The Battle of Acosta Nu) the protagonist seems to live in Australia yet believes his is one of the few Australian emigrants (or their descendants) living in Paraguay yet yearning for Australia (there were in fact several attempts by Australians in the 19th C to establish a commune of sorts in remote Paraguay). The landscape for GM is always internal and inaccessible, prompted by perhaps an image in a book or magazine, a live of verse, or even just the sound of the name of a place. He is the anti-Proust; whereas MP sealed himself away to try to search for and re-created the landscapes of his youth (and later life), GM seals himself away (he writes in isolation and has few social contacts, by design) to immerse himself in a landscape that is purely of the imagination; in fact, as he notes (and has been confirmed in the GM mag profile), he has never left the Australian state of Victoria (I imagine that's similar to, say, never leaving the state of New York). A few of his stories reference an entire world, or landscape, that he has created based on his own maps and on a set of facts - many having to do w/ horse racing - that he has documented, a perfectly imagined landscape, unsullied by any touches of history or present reality. He's also the anti-Knausgaard: whereas KOK has written beautifully and perhaps obsessively about his lifelong struggle to connect with others and to express his feelings in his fiction, GM writes obsessively about his need to separate himself from others and so as to write about, to conjure, landscapes that he has never experienced. That said, he is also painfully honest about his struggles to meet women, to keep writing, and to keep himself from descending into alcoholism and despair. He bears the burden, the curse, of a great creative spirit and acuity, perseverance, and what seem to be many disorders, including what most would say are some recognizable symptoms of OCD, autism, and Asberger's syndrome.His therapy is to write.