Hogan, Jay Aus Dem Gleichgewicht Eine Paint... -

Hogan took a deep breath. He didn't close his eyes, but he forced his hands into his pockets. He stared at the violent amber lines, leaning his own weight slightly to the right to compensate for the frame's tilt. For the first time in his life, he didn't reach out to fix the frame. He just stood there, letting the painting pull him off center.

"Don't touch it," a voice said from the shadows of the arched doorway.

The piece was titled Aus Dem Gleichgewicht —Out of Balance. It was a chaotic swirl of industrial grays and violent slashes of amber, the masterpiece of an reclusive artist named Jay. Hogan had spent his entire career as a curator correcting the world's leanings, straightening frames until his fingers were permanently calloused by the edges of heavy oak and sleek aluminum. Hogan, Jay Aus Dem Gleichgewicht Eine Paint...

"It's crooked," Hogan said, his voice straining to remain professional. "By exactly three degrees. It ruins the line of the entire wall."

Hogan looked back at the canvas. The amber slashes seemed to pulse against the gray background. Without the comfort of a level horizon, the colors felt aggressive, active, as if they were sliding off the canvas onto the polished concrete floor. It was brilliant. It was also maddening. Hogan took a deep breath

"I can't leave it like this," Hogan murmured. "My eyes won't let me."

Hogan froze. A young man leaned against the brick wall, wearing a jacket stained with dried turpentine and charcoal. His eyes were bright, restless, and locked onto Hogan's reaching hand. For the first time in his life, he

"Then close them," Jay suggested softly, stepping closer. "Stop measuring. Stop calculating. Just stand in front of it and let yourself tip over."