The images promoting the exhibit are at once repulsive and beautiful. Muscles separating from the body and folding over themselves, tendons straining and internal tissue lay bare. It is difficult for me not to stare. The most intensely intimate portrait of a man, and essentially, of myself, displayed unapologetically on my daily commute. It serves as a lesson on how to create beauty and a compelling dialogue from such grotesque subject matter.
It is the stuff of nightmares, and I wouldn't miss it for the world.