“Your home desk arrives as a projection of a desk in a near-flatpack of near-two-dimensional layers. In an act of projection, the box belies all it took to be boxed. Once it’s out and up, you imagine a desk is different to a table, or at least that a desk is not just a table. You set up your desktop computer on your desktop, and you are sitting at your desk. The desk then projects itself into the screen as a desktop on the screen; you imagine the screen is not a screen but a desk. If you follow this through, if a screen is a desk, then the world must have quarter-turned down on itself from you, and you must actually be sitting somehow face-down. This makes the act of desk-work look as if you’re trying to fall into sleep up on your shins and haunches, and the screen is incanting your dream. Somehow you don’t notice all this; you’ve thrown yourself into the work; you’re directed elseways. When you’re finished, you slip with your intuition out of the world’s quarter-turn for now by putting your computer to sleep.” - Excerpt from accompanying exhibition text by Rowan McNaught, 'Z'. Images courtesy animal house fine arts