The peeling, blood-red paint on a building and the deep turquoise blue of the exterior of an artist's home provide colorful close-ups of some Mexican architecture. In an endearing and almost sad photo called "El Perro Loco" ("The Crazy Dog"), an elderly and allegedly senile dog takes a siesta on a giant stuffed animal. And in "Agave Graffiti," we are introduced to the Mexican version of spray paint: etchings left on a tropical plant.

Cheryl Goldsleger's graphite drawings (pictured) would make any geometry teacher squeal with glee. The precision and symmetry of each drawing and blueprint is astounding, not to mention hypnotic (imagine a rat maze with no way out). Lynne Clibanoff's drawings of miniature rooms sit in cigar box constructions. Both artists also have sculptures at the exhibit.

This play wins points for its dark humor, love story, full frontal nudity, pulpy plot and avoidance of trailer-trash stereotypes. OK, I lied about that last part—the play is full of them. Druggie Chris needs to pay his dealers, so like any clever man of white-trash origins, he hatches a scheme to murder Ma and collect the insurance money. In comes Killer Joe, part cop, part hitman, ready to help do away with the old bag. In exchange for Chris' sister, of course.