A dim, endless hallway made of flesh-colored wallpaper and old televisions embedded in the walls — each screen shows a different version of the viewer's face, blinking out of sync. In the distance, a man with no mouth and too many eyes gently cradles a porcelain head that weeps black ink. The ceiling drips with static, and the floor is a mirror that reflects nothing. The air feels heavy, like it remembers something you don’t. See more