Living Room Extravaganza - The Last High Point
Post-painting
Circa 2026
It’s the perfect catch. The receiver hangs at the top of his leap with his body stretched to its limit, fingers spread and eyes locked on the ball as it turns against a pale sky. Players stand frozen across the grass below, and the goalposts are waiting. It’s the image that gets replayed in slow motion and printed on the front page, the moment a whole stadium holds its breath.
Behind him, a city is on fire. Columns of black smoke rise off the horizon, fighter jets slide through the sky in formation, and whole districts smoulder down to ash. Nobody on the field turns around. The game keeps going.
The Last High Point is about the way the screen trains us to look. War and sport arrive on the same channel, in the same glow, cut into the same highlight reels, and the living room takes both with the same snacks. The jets look like a flyover, the bombardment looks like half-time pyrotechnics, and the spectacle sells itself. The title gives the game away. This is a culture at its peak of distraction, suspended in the air with its hands up, reaching for the ball as the ground below it burns. Every fall starts from a high point.