i started apartment gallery to show my dad, who had a self-described blip of a painting career in the 80’s – he glued giant paintings to the walls of new york city – and since then has toiled in obscurity. in the 90’s he would come home exhausted and go right to bed. after dinner he would get high and go downstairs to paint. once, either on his way down or having just returned, he confided in me his thoughts on painting. he said it was like leaping off a cliff, flailing, desperate, grabbing at anything and hoping it holds. he died on august 20, 2025. this show is arranged according to a sentimental hierarchy: my mom and me here, my friends there, and my dad in between.