... is my middlename.
 

Gwen is a part of me that roams around, letting the brain disconnect and reset when there's a nervous moment of recognition or clarity, when

 there's a hint, a notion, when light and shadow, color or contrast catch its eye. When it smells indistinguishable shades or senses space and time, it dives into creating nonsense that somehow leads to the most basic kind of sense.

A large part of me, the other one, spends its time on scientific, sociological, and psychological analysis of life—writing papers, developing concepts, planning research, trying to find new pathways of thinking. 

These two parts meet like neighbors in the shady hallway of the same building. Sometimes they spend the night there, or one invites the other into their apartment. Other times, they gossip about each other, and most of the time, they just try to be left alone. 
But they live under the same roof. They drive each other crazy sometimes—jealous, fighting, or loving each other. Maybe they’re more like a couple than neighbors. But in the end, seems it’s just one soul with a lot of rooms. Kids, housework, nature, reading, writing, crying, family, and loneliness—all of it lives in this chaotic house. You are welcome—and sometimes not.
And then, Gwen stands guard against the darkness and the senselessness of an overly logical brain.