The endless rift between a horror of dream and reality. Stand silent because the bed’s gone cold after abandoning a nightmare and stand silent knowing that if you wake them up, that the one source of everyday comfort turns completely sour. One terror begets another so all we do is nothing at all. Drift into the tapestry as if to trick the night into knowing we are nothing at all. Passover.

A truly perfect work of margins that I want every shot framed theater wide to take in for hours as if I saw it for the first time.