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“Los Angeles seems endlessly held between these extremes:
of light and dark - of surface and depth.
Of the promise, in brief, of a meaning always hovering 
on the edge of significance.”
– Graham Clarke

The rambling metropolis of Los Angeles sprawls across a thousand 
square miles of a great desert basin, knitted together by an 
intricate network of congested freeways between the ocean and the 
snow-capped mountains. Its colorful melange of shopping malls, palm 
trees and swimming pools is both mildly surreal and startlingly 
familiar, thanks to the celluloid self-image that it has spread all
over the world. Los Angeles is a bright and eclectic patchwork of 
neighborhoods and lifestyles. Made up of dozens of communities, 
there is no one unifying experience that sums up the life and the 
heartbeat of this city among cities. From the eternal sunshine and 
glitz to the traffic and smog, this City of Angels will forever be 
many things to many people.

Or so it seems on the surface. It’s a city of illusions, America’s
Dream Factory, and as false as the image it projects. Incredible 
wealth exists side by side with crushing poverty, the glamor of 
Hollywood transposed to the shadows of the street and the shattering 
symphony of gangland violence. A melange of cultures and people 
crammed into an oasis in the desert, perched upon the edge of an 
abyss. Agony and ecstasy dance side by side in a bipolar march of 
bright lights and long, deep shadows that shade every heart and 
darken every corner. Dreams and reality intermix in vivid illusions 
as nightmares are born silently in the darkness and long shadows 
stretch forth to shroud the soul. Even the dead must tread lightly 
here.

Welcome to Los Angeles.