Ordinary wooden paint mixers dipped in bright colors are transformed into a chorus line of high stepping ladies who kick in unison to the beat of evocative cosmetic colors printed within their outlines. The breathless beat of Molly Bloom’s soliloquy from the finale of James Joyce’s Ulysses is conjoined within this language of colors in an abstracted stream of consciousness. Her musings whispers to us the immutable language of love while the designations of cosmetic colors hint at the promise of infinite desirability.

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