The name of my psychologist is Dr Madeleine Wisconsin and she has an office in the middle of town that bestows more peace upon me than I ever let on. Big windows let in waves of sunlight and on most days I can see the mountains beyond the skyscrapers and the skeletons of condo developments lurching skyward from the decimated lots of the west end. Two or three potted plants hang from discrete silver chains embedded in the ceiling near the windows. On the wall across from the soft arm chair where I sit during my appointments are a few ambient paintings in cheap frames of a style that I would call post-Rothko and sub-Eno. The tender mint hues and the soft burst of peach at the fringes of these pieces may soothe the embattled soul of a local land developer or the stressed yoga mom who needs help rationalizing the side dick she’s been getting two or three times a week behind her husband’s back for months now but to me it was the visual equivalent of John Tesh’s entire catalog played on the kazoo. | image via @_art_psycho