Two conflicting realities of equal lushness but opposite quality. They constantly push and pull against one another, vying for prominence: the trompe-l’oeil flatness of the painted forest backdrop pushes against the genuine dimensionality of the urban back alley. But that tension gets diffused by their unexpected agreement on the subject of perspective and vanishing points. And the inescapability of that rough, unpainted edge of the drop: a frame that undercuts the illusion of what it frames, that says, “No no, what is in here is different than what is out there.” And while the little girl may be contained within that frame, she also seems on the verge of stepping across it from one world to the next.