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.