Using paint, pixels and pills, Todd Scalise has become a modern-day "Seurat the Dot." But his impressions are far less syrupy. For example, instead of the pleasantries found in Seurat's "Sunday Afternoon on the Island of the Grande Jatte," we are left with bare-bones social commentary -- like that found in "Apocalyptica," where the central figure is part fertility goddess and part goddess of consumerism.

In "BiblioMyth," Scalise renders his verdict on the Palestinian state, again in pixels and paint. And in "The White Hand," he takes viewers on a journey of primeval proportions through basic symbols and shapes -- skulls, an airplane, a face -- amid a field of diamond shapes that has been delineated by way of a process he calls "pharmaceutical appliqué" -- which is, quite simply, pasted-on pills.

Altogether, the messages sent in these works are mixed. But therein lies the point: Like watching a late-night infomercial, we're not sure whether we should buy into Scalise's plan for new world order, but we can't stop looking anyway.