52nd St: Pod
A tucked-away industrial landscape, blurring between freedom/barrier.
A neon yellow triangle meets a graphite triangle at the corner. Blue and periwinkle triangles on the floor. A chain link fence; the visitor sneaks past and crouches, possibly smudging the graphite. There, the visitor is blinded by a projection of acetate flapping aggressively in extreme wind and sunlight. An industrial fan blows. Overreaching shadows, whitewashed light: a conflicting sense of safe haven and dead end.