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Begun in 2003. For the first and so far, only time, I rented space in a studio along the Lachine Canal, that old brick factory now blooming with artists' lofts and studios. The lady gave me a lift each Saturday. She was a good person. Insisted, however, in breaking for lunch and having a formal repast, most of which she brought. One could not say no.

It was only for a few Saturdays. Even if I'd not been working full-time in an office downtown, I'd not have been allowed to use the space without her presence.

Still, there was good light, a sense of purpose, and the smell of paint in the air. Yes, time to finish this companion piece to "The Dark Underside". What's eighteen years between friends? It's eighteen LONG years, that's what.