A wash of psychedelic-like neon lights pool against the top two floors of an otherwise monochromatic night skyline on the fringes of a city. A beacon for lonely souls or those awash with whisky in the late hours of the night. At first a hotel to sleep before the word ‘Massage’ atop the building ushers in further with a rogue inquisitiveness. What happens behind those two perfectly symmetrical windows? An innocuous hotel room or a secret place where unspoken deeds will always be locked within its parameters?
This work takes the point of view of an observer and considers the magnetic mystery of what happens behind those fluorescent fuchsia lights which pierce the inky black night sky, sparking curiosity and intrigue.