A room, twice.

1
The neon paint on the walls seems to be pulsing; as though the vivid yellow would rather swallow someone whole than play the cheerful part that it has been scripted. Strewn across the floor and pushed hurriedly onto shelves, there are dozens of toys; dolls and stuffed animals, plastic dinosaurs and little green soldiers. Their beady, haunting eyes pierce the air in every direction, lifeless and yet full of life, unable to avoid the relentless, raging yellow. A severe and fierce shaft of light intrudes on the room through a small square window. The sunbeams reach the paint on the walls and feed upon the yellow’s frustration, sparking it to expand and move out into the room itself. It layers everything it touches with a suffocating, sarcastically cheerful glow. In the corner, shadowed, a rocking chair sits empty, taunting.

2
It’s a small room, but the optimistic glow of the yellow walls seems to expand it. Trickles of sunshine stream through the glass of a window, and join forces with the color in the paint to light up the room and relax its boundaries. Dolls and teddy bears rest on the floor and from their places on shelves, barely containing the hidden life inside of them. The warm yellow reflection paints their faces and fuels their waiting energy. A rocking chair in the corner sits silently, shaded from the sun and patiently egging on the toys as they invite life toward the closed and expectant door.