Biomorphic watercolor shapes restlessly loop and collapse across sheets of roughly cut paper, while gestural black lines race through, suggesting mouths, limbs, and faces without ever settling into them. Fragments of identity surface, provoke, and dissolve. Outdated magazine pages are cut, torn, and reassembled. Irreverent still lifes and performative self-portraits punctuate the exhibition: an obscured face dissolving into purple light, a worn tube of concealer, an estrogen patch, a gold heart necklace, a duct tape figure with unblinking googly eyes, and the gaze multiplied and made absurd. Kelda Van Patten finds strength in the precarious and imperfect: tape seams catch the light, folds of soft pink fabric conceal and expose, and a red pipe cleaner quietly resists a smile.

Borrowing its title from a 1971 Sunset magazine advertisement, the kind of domestic imagery that shaped her childhood visual environment, Kelda Van Patten's work explores the space where "perfection" is a familiar, yet unstable, promise. Across collage, photography, animation, and objects, Kelda investigates the tension between being seen and unseen, examining how "femininity" is constructed within Western beauty systems, aging, and the labor of care. By isolating body parts, obscuring faces, and utilizing marketing artifacts, the work reveals a world of "almost recognition" where images of the "feminine" begin to glitch. In this multidisciplinary landscape, Kelda celebrates mistakes and process as strengths. Imperfection and precarity are not treated as failures, but as generative structures. What emerges is a state of continual becoming: an identity that is perpetually made and unmade, staying in motion rather than settling into a resolved, "perfect" completion.