Brittni Harvey, Manal Kara, Nicholas Sullivan, Brandi Twilley, curated by Philip Hinge
The problems you choose to ignore and the ones you don’t are in persistent disorder. Solutions are hard to come by and it’s getting late. If you don’t deal with it soon, you’ll suffocate. Luckily, with enough concentration even the most pressing issues can disappear, effervescently floating away on unfamiliar tides.
Stepping off the elevator and walking through the door, realities’ dust settles into a dreamy haze, forming a crust on things we once recognized. If you squint hard enough, you can find familiarity in the permutations of this newly conjured formality. The chandelier is only illuminated if light is reflecting off of its thick carapace, which entombs a dull pink gourd. The paintings of dreaming girls are inexplicably covered in bugs. Should you mention that to someone? A pair of spiked hands rests on the windowsill, menacing but too heavy and limp to be bothered to lift a finger. Everything is different, and you’ve started to forget what was bothering you.
Pushing past these shapes and images is the skyline. It’s right there but it is out of reach. If you could walk through walls you would fall, and if you could teleport you wouldn’t be here anymore. So instead you decide to shrink into the comfort of a warmly lit cat tree, which sits firmly against the expanse of the city. It is cozy, and you imagine you could live the rest of your days happily in this feline’s complex of twisted rope and faux fur.
You can do better, wait, kNOW you WON’t.