With lyrical sunset and turquoise colors, "storer street" explores a room as experienced in a flash and from a personal perspective. The painting invites us in. I am happy to enter, in fact, and observe the playfulness, light-heartedness, surprise, and involved drama of this person's experience within his room. The painting is a snapshot, in a way. I savor the moment in this room, in which action and involvement are captured by the odd images and pleasant colors, by the quick pencil lines, and by the expansiveness of this apparently small space.

You turn the corner to go. You think a sheet of drywall, windowless, a whitewash of paint over pain will suffice. What you don't know is that one coat is never enough. The spit, piss, and blood, the splatter and scratches, the scrawled note, they float to the surface as it dries. You can't keep a drowned body down. As the ice thins, the face that has risen to the surface can be seen tap tapping on the sheet. And then there is cracking. The body erupts. You can't paint snow over the world, my love. It all comes up in the end.