Integral to chaos are the threads of the future.  If only were we able to grab them and spin them in our mind, instead of crushing them like cigarette butts on the floor. Time is encrusted in our organs, centuries of ruins have covered brilliant civilizations, death and birth are a nuptial nod over the human lives. Messy. The 99¢ Only Store died, a group of artists from San Francisco brought back the space to a week of life. In a place that smells of abandonment, art becomes a phoenix regenerating from the ashes: a portrait of urban life made by many hands, many different minds, cultures, beliefs … walk through until you lose your mind, until your heart beats stronger and a big smile moves your lips. It’s all for not being lonely, self-sufficient or dismissed by the need of order. 

Barry McGee marks his own presence with colored geometries scattered among the large population of artpieces without disturbing them. Vivid and silent, his images could expand like fractals, they don’t. Thoughts are organized by hand, limited by vertical and horizontal edges. They merge into the surrounding collection of objects filled with sensitivity, refusing evaluation, announcing their presence.