Somewhere between representation and abstraction, J. Coleman Miller finds a new kind of surrealist expressionism. Eerie aqueous faces of angst and passion hidden within diaphanous veils of liquid flesh. Floral fluids teeming with twisted crickets. Tortured spirits embroiled in gaseous infernos. Nebulous glacial prehistoria infected with fractal relfections and vitreous pathogens. Sultry vaporous nymphs smoldering in the molten pools of aleatoric magma from which the earliest signs of art emerged. The mysterious images of J. Coleman Miller evoke wonder and delight without allowing us to fall victim to our usual inner censors who squelch the child in us and cast judgement based on what is known. Miller’s art invites us to see what we don’t yet believe exists.