Heather Morgan‘s paintings in Today’s Scrambled Creatures make me uncomfortable in ways I can’t quite figure out how to express. She focuses mostly on female nudes, often with alarming eyes and distorted proportions. It’s sexy in a particularly dirty and un-glamorous kind of way. I want to say it feels sort of Berlin-between-the-wars, but I’m not entirely sure what that means, except that there’s a feeling of menace and dissolution in the way the paintings look out at the viewer and I feel a sense of foreboding when I stare back.