In one scene of Elizabeth Hobbs' "collective creation" imPULSE, April Killins and Tasha Weenk dip their bare hands and feet into buckets of assorted colours of paint, and then slather the ground--and themselves--in shades of green, yellow and red. All the while, breaking into vapid monologues of feelings and emotions. Huh! What I could only articulate as feministic poetry filled in most of the awkward moments in between harmonizing humming, ballet-esque frolics, and a come-hither strip tease depicting our societal supply & demand. This eccentric 35-minute production spared some relief, though, in a piece about the frustration of automated telephone runarounds ("The Missing Lobe"), in the reading of a poem about relentless longing ("I Miss"), and in an emotive tale about a woman unable to bear children "(Barren"). Too bad it cluttered itself in ambiguous shards of nonsense. 

Two out of five stars.