In Page's manifesto-like statement, he argues, "We are embarrassed by objects and feel the need to defend their ownership and production . . . The useful object, if it survives, is more often than not displayed [as] an artifact or even a relic, functioning more as an image than a discrete object." I'm not sure I agree with that sentiment, and I see a more compelling tension in the ambiguous, conflicted nature of Page's artwork than a clear didactic intent. The art objects already seem embarrassed for themselves. The "unfinished" quality of the stray threads reads as an attempt to negate the "preciousness" of labor-intensive process. The felt and vinyl constructions seem self-conscious about their complacency in the apparatus of display; they are, in essence, picture frames-elevating/castrating the once-humble/once-functional instruments they contain. However, they can't quite function decoratively. There's something adamantly anti-luxurious about the materials from which they are constructed. The forms hang on the wall, mimicking the display of paintings or tapestries, but are conspicuously affixed via visible hardware and steel grommets that penetrate the artwork. The cumulative impression is of an absurdist garage-organizing system one might purchase inexpensively from a big-box retailer. It's effective.