And perhaps this all reminds you of something big but ungraspable, the prickly texture of being alive: questions on questions, fuzzy longings, glimpses of unnameable mystery, strangeness accepted because it’s right in front of you.
El Saleh paints bodies in extremis, as if flesh were semaphoring inward emotional states, as if emotions reshaped physiognomy, sat literally close to the bone. Hands and feet, here, are as articulate and emphatic as eyes.
