InterUrban

Deborah Eve Alastra’s "InterUrban" finds intrigue in the mundane and underlying unrest in an apparently peaceful scene. Regardless of one's ideological principles, I think we can all agree that we are living through tremendously tumultuous times. Not only is the world being ravaged by a pandemic with no end in sight, but cultural and political upheavals have become omnipresent. Our systems of power—and the foundations on which they stand—are being questioned with a voracity and anger (often righteous) unseen for decades. Laws and conventions, hitherto seen as unassailable, are facing wholesale rejection not only by the marginalized who have experienced their gruesome consequences for ages but also by the children of the privileged who have benefited from them. The traditions of past generations hang like nightmares, not points of pride, on the brains of the living. The evidence of these upheavals is plastered all over the red-bricked building in the forefront of Alastra’s calm cityscape.