It features work that all, often through degrees of autobiography, speaks to some of the discordances of being at home: perhaps the anticipation of order amidst the everyday; or an expectation of comfort, often amidst insecurity or tension.

The exhibition is a place where we might live. Often, when visitors come to this gallery, they ask her if she lives here. They ask, "Do you live here?" They ask, "Are these your cats?" I lived here once too. I don't anymore. This exhibition is about living somewhere. Perhaps it is about reaching for this thing.

In the words of Guest-Host-Guest: 'Here, the house is a metaphor for assumed belonging. A place we are expected to be 'resolved' or 'satisfied', even when displacement, precarity, and contested ownership sit just beneath the surface.'

The exhibition is a hand with a mirror in front of it. The mirror reflects some flowers or a field. Behind the hand is a sky. In front of the sky is a blank, featureless wall. All these things at various distances from the camera. A cat; a home; a gallery; a municipality listed on a birth certificate (since burned). The house.

Entry to the exhibition is free.