by Yoshiko Teraoka

I have been thinking about walls in times of crises. 

In a time of inversion – when left became right and right became left, moving forward meant moving back, and the contradictory impressions of the Covid-capitalist crisis were felt on sidewalks and screens, I found myself in a habit of returning to the same music and art, while stuck inside my domestic-turned-office walls. Comfort turned into compulsion when I began staring into the contradictions of a late painting by Mark Rothko.

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