Here we’ve offered, in an ideal group, as though in a petri plate or funeral china dish or perhaps a porthole—which, incidentally, may be the vanguard of windows, the aperture we look at whenever we desire to be stored properly, firmly, hermetically secure from whichever is about the different end-of the slim pane we clever using the warmth of our faces—the type of satisfying gridded area, therefore directly!, therefore comforting!, therefore completely proper and standard!, bone-white pieces cut by aurelian outlines basically lineal however in really unfinished, bulging a little, a bit careless, just like a military garrison on parade—so near to ideal, but still (for the time being) individual!—or the grout lines inside your toilet … yes!, it is a toilet ground, encircled within the petridish, seen through the porthole, toilet tiles gridded out with platinum, surrounded by marble (obviously!), perfect save a pox, the red of dried blood—itis the best shade within the whole-room, truly, this dry-deoxygenated-but-nevertheless-also-clean body, each splock using its own idiosyncratic hairstyle, pili radiating as-is in the poorest sunlight, clumping into constellations, mild parabolic types like curved brows, transporting inside them a feeling of ad hoc exigency, the kinetic stunning assault required Due to their software exhibited within their types, an undertake a passing from the Bret Easton Ellis novel—The toilet reeks of bleach and also the ground is sparkling and moist despite the fact that the maid has not started cleansing in below however; Glamorama. 256—a type of quiet assault, an echo of the second taken its chaos in all atop a bone-white grid, sparkling with platinum, surrounded a porthole, by marble into God – W. Chicago Factor, Donald Zarley

Rebecca Morris|Untitled (#01-16), 2016. Spray and gas paint 68 69 inches, on fabric. Picture thanks to Corbett vs Dempsey, Chicago and the performer