(No photos were taken of her work as I believed it just wouldn't do her justice)
Her pieces are a collection of texts that seem to move in and out of frame from every direction, forwards and back, left to right, in and out. Texts from random thoughts that come and go in our minds. The white noises of our inner conversations. Kristin herself is every bit of her art. A conversation with her reminded me of afternoon tea.
Braving the streets at 105° we set out to discover what our new home had to offer. The metropolis seemed desolate in the summer. Most of the galleries were closed... but a few good ones were open to quench our thirst for art.
Amy at Perihelion Arts, a transplant from NYC, introduced us to the MirrorMask-esque (ala David McKean) pieces of Jesse Peper, a personal favorite and Yuko Yabuki, whose work mirrored that of Egon Schiele-cross-Peter Chung's. Eye candy with a deep dark twist.
At Manshed Studio, we meet Henry Bellavia and his suited-faceless men whose work we fell in love with. He captured light stunningly with a subject reminiscent of Dali in today's times.
The West Gallery at Eye Lounge greets you with dancers on Life-Saver candied walls. And like any art installation, photographs just won't cut it. You just have to be there.
None of the galleries had Cowboy art. No horseshoe installation, nor spurs, nor cacti. Zip. Nada. None. Such a sweet, sweet surprise and I'm not going to ask why! Enriched and inspired, we can now all go back to the drawing table. But first, lunch....