We have a flirtatious relationship with the rigidity of floorplans. We fuck around with the entrenched masculinity of blueprint-demarcated borders. We revel in the femme-y architectural accessories of blinds, curtains, and rugs as sites of intervention, movement, and penetration. Floor and window coverings shift into more permeable membranes, pointing to a greater capacity for passage and exchange in and out of a fixed structure.
Our flirtation is spreading into a simpering fantasy of collective spying, melting, and flipping out. We are fortune casting out of the window and into you.
-April & Ruby