Penumbra takes a brave step into the endless obsidian desert, the waterless sea of the cosmos in which all that is present and precious is dust.

Here we witness a lunar coup and a hostile takeover of illumination. An excessive copulation between light and dark where each one, by virtue of being eclipsed, is empowered - the shadows are dug deeper, the light is made more searing, and infinitely opposing portals are launched. It is an obscuration of the original markings of an order that sought meaning in their circles of ceremony, and divinity in the spheres that hovered above them. 

Both bodies are antagonists and protectors of each other at the same time. The celestial iris, constant, an inky sphere on which every point is the center of that universe, provokes a refraction of perspectives - are we moving ahead, or is all moving ahead while we remain still? Subject to the variation in mood and temper, adrift and steady at the same time, wavering and rusting away, precise and unclarified so that balance, here in the world of the paradox, is simply a matter of perspective. Axis upon axis, thundering one on top of the other with no place in time.