Architectural impotence at MoMA’s latest
Everyone is recognizable, either because you know who they are or because you’ve seen these portraits before.
It was a strange, tentacular artifact, but a welcome respite from all the noise, visual and otherwise.
They grasp at their future until a tragedy snaps the present into place.
Finally, an art exhibition mercifully devoid of the weight of being a serious artist
The incidental noise of domestic work is both mute and shackling.
Can we have our paper menus back?
When everything is on fire, why worry about the little ember of a problem inside you?