Trying to live with creativity without letting it take over the stubborn bleakness of reality is an ironic twist to the dismissal I showed it 14 long years ago. Doubly ironic in that it's a source of creativity in itself.

Here we have our rifts - too far apart and we lose sight, forget, we get lost, or fall into the dividing, expanding black. Too close together and we can clash, disfigure ourselves in a futile attempt to conjoin these twins at the hip.