Hogan, Jay Aus Dem Gleichgewicht Eine Paint... -

Hogan took a deep breath. He didn't close his eyes, but he forced his hands into his pockets. He stared at the violent amber lines, leaning his own weight slightly to the right to compensate for the frame's tilt. For the first time in his life, he didn't reach out to fix the frame. He just stood there, letting the painting pull him off center.

"It's perfect," Jay replied, pushing off the wall and walking into the soft glow of the track lighting. "The world doesn't sit at ninety-degree angles, Hogan. Why should the art?" Hogan, Jay Aus Dem Gleichgewicht Eine Paint...

Jay laughed, a short, sharp sound that echoed in the empty gallery. "Exactly. It forces them to feel the pull. You want them to look at it and feel safe. I want them to look at it and feel like they are about to fall." Hogan took a deep breath

Hogan looked back at the canvas. The amber slashes seemed to pulse against the gray background. Without the comfort of a level horizon, the colors felt aggressive, active, as if they were sliding off the canvas onto the polished concrete floor. It was brilliant. It was also maddening. For the first time in his life, he

The piece was titled Aus Dem Gleichgewicht —Out of Balance. It was a chaotic swirl of industrial grays and violent slashes of amber, the masterpiece of an reclusive artist named Jay. Hogan had spent his entire career as a curator correcting the world's leanings, straightening frames until his fingers were permanently calloused by the edges of heavy oak and sleek aluminum.