The work of Julia Fullerton-Batten is that type of work that you don’t take seriously at first. You look at the pretty colors, and you feel joyful (especially on cold and gloomy early spring days). You enjoy the composition, and you even secretly check the outfits. Until all of a sudden, right in the middle of that joyful curiosity, it hits you.
Maybe it is a twinkle in the eye.
Or a muscle strain.
Or a misplaced pleat.
It grabs you and swirls you, and throws you right in the middle of the happening. And you are not a mere observer anymore. You are not even part of the plot. You are the plot.