THE HEAT

THE HEAT

Exhibition

When the heat hit, it was hard to breathe. The heat was hot, it was hard to move, and tempers were rising. The heat had been brought.

The heat was on. We moved faster, with more adrenaline, passion, instinct. We had to keep up, to prove we could hold our cool. We moved faster, and more heat was brought. We brought ourselves more heat. We had the haunting wonder of whether we could handle it, but at least we were moving, we were alive.

We let the heat linger, and we kept layering it on. We were addicted to the heat.

How would we discretely find success? How would we carefully hold our insanity? How would we eloquently risk everything?

We began to sleuth, spy, research, cheat, steal, camouflage, battle, combat, and compete while trying to remain calm, collected and sure that these actions were for some proper reason. Sometimes we were too loud and progressive, we would spend too much time searching for an oasis, or we would be inappropriately highly glamorous, widening the divide within the heat, but that brought more heat of a different nature, and we liked it. Everybody was moving.

The heat was sexy, full of fear, death was pending. It was hard. It was hot. We felt, we fought. It was human.

The expectation was haunting, the pressure was heavy, and the heat continued. It was suffocating and pervasive, but it was real. We were motivated, we moved, we felt, and we all kept feeling the heat.