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I was lulled into submission by the sound of sweet music. Soothing bass beats intermingled with the crooning lilt of an El vis Presley heartbreaker and the mellow tunes of elevator music. Intrigued by the mixed bag of funky sounds, I hesitated before entering the Plimsoll Gallery and began to sway and tap my feet to the enticing melodies which conjured up wishful daydreams of pink flamingos, pina coladas and balmy tropical nights in a sundrenched city illed with foreign accents and the exotic scent of coconut oil. For a brief moment I was lost in a fantasy world, much to the delight of the bemused gallery attendant who was observing my strange behaviour. Little did I realise, I was standing there with my heart on my sleeve. Curated by Kylie Johnson, Heart on Your Sleeve was an energetic selection of work which explored 'the slippage between the private and the public, the social and the personal, fact and fiction' .1 Like sneaking a peek at your best friend 's diary or flipping through the hidden photo album of a new partner, viewing the works in Heart on Your Sleeve evoked apprehension at the thought of being caught looking at something you know you should not be looking at. In a series of glimpses into the private moments and thoughts of the selected artists, one was torn between an insatiable desire to devour with glee all the 'secrets' offered on show and the guilt of knowingly intruding on intimate scenes of personal significance. Divided into several small rooms, the gallery appeared more like a maze than an artspace with angular tunnels and corridors leading into dim, darkened cavities which housed