Some folks entered in pairs or groups, but the majority of the audience had a private experience, alone with their thoughts and body. Participants drank Balara's water bottles, physically mixing the show's contents with their own, depositing elements of their lives into the gallery. Shlon's textiles successfully dried off hands and faces and brought sunny feelings to the moonlit space. The participatory pieces were supported by the shower/bath installation. Shlon's tinny audio filled the small room while Balara's potpourri commanded everyone's nostrils, and both warranted visual attention. The pixelated video shimmered and lurched on the thin plastic curtain, casting a cold glow on to the mosaic of Walmart plant matter in the tub.