Snow, it’s not

Downstairs at the CAM, there's a big box full of white, gelatinous stuff with the consistency of grits (without the butter).

But where grits are warm and smell good, this stuff is cool and whiffs faintly of ethylene glycol: antifreeze, and that's the closest it gets to winter, the word SNOW, pasted in twelve-inch letters on the side of the box, notwithstanding. The piece, by recent Cal Arts grad Allie Bogle is an adventure in how far people will go for art, taking off their shoes (and socks) and slipping through this treacherous muck like Lucy hiking her skirts to join the Italian grape harvest. Wet-naps provided at the door were useless.  The piece is titled I Love You More Now That You’re Gone, and can only refer to the sticky feeling inside your shoes, like residue from a sordid one-night stand. Go to the bathroom and wash your feet in the sink.