The title of Elizabeth Neel’s first exhibition at Salon 94, Arms Now Legs, is a reference to the beginning of Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Neel’s paintings, much like Ovid’s epic poem, metamorphosize out of a collage of remnants. For Ovid, these remnants were the scattered pieces of his manuscript, lost then found by history after his exile. For Neel, these remnants are comprised of the intimate and alienating hues and affects collected while attempting an instinctive integration with the outside world. I, the writer, know the longing and highs of searching for those integrative transformations. Having left home at 17 on a freight train out west with no money or destination, I bore myself into a world without boundaries and made up of the detritus of an Americana that has been deemed already extinct today.