Next up, a wee lass who certainly could never do any wrong. Rafael Perez's Secretary is the standout of the show. Clad in a J. Crew v-neck sweater, proper bias-cut collared shirt, and button nose upon which rests a pair of librarian's glasses, she is the visual epitome of harmlessness. But look again: this is not merely a woman scorned, nor a woman wronged. No, she is diabolical. Like Bridget Jones on crack, this character has established a new level of water cooler vengeance. Perhaps she's just adding Sweet-n-Low to the boss' coffee, but my money's on GHB, cyanide or battery acid. Perez delivers a knockout punch focusing on every working woman's own frustration with the glass ceiling. I cannot say enough about it; it simply must be seen.

Dan Witz, Teresa, 2008, mixed media on canvas, 20 x 16 inches.

On the more upbeat side of things is Julie Lohnes' video, Fight. In it, a plethora of camouflage-wearing combatants beat each other senseless with feather pillows until the plummage spills wide across the battlefield, as if it were their own Gettysburg. I had to laugh at the friends wrestling each other to the ground, placing one other in headlocks not unlike a WWF or WCW match. A cease-fire ends with a barrage of feathers being stuffed down each other's collars -- an image straight out of a teenage boy's wet dream. But the participants here are determined warriors, and would trample any unsuspecting boy's heart into the ground. Upon second look, the players are clad in glitter star decaled shirts over their camouflage -- some in tight-fitting leggings -- all “girlified.”

John Jacobsmeyer's 2005 piece, Invisible Woman is another visual of a young boy's fantasy, and for any comic book loving women, another heroine for the ages. Her very name conjures up a tongue-in-cheek image, for her portrayal is that of the Second in Command of Marvel Comics' “Fantastic 4” -- right series behind “Mr. Fantastic.” Jacobsmeyer has painted an interesting backdrop for our superhero -- with numerals crossed out as if days served on a prison cell wall. How many days in captivity has our hero waited for the unleashing of her power? Her special power however isn't superhuman strength or x-ray vision, but invisibility -- the power to be overlooked.

Alyssa Monks' painting Press confronts the viewer with luminous breasts in macro close-up against a glass shower door. The woman seems to tease us with her perfect spheres, enticing us to come closer. Again, this work champions a new direction in female sexuality. Here is a woman who knows what she wants, when she wants it. But a certain four-letter word is too commonly used to describe a woman of this demeanor. Monks treats her subject with a great reverence however, and the piece really works. It's not just the creation of a master photorealist figure painter, but it embraces the fact a woman can embrace her sensuality and not be ashamed. I also liked the title of piece, because not only is it alluding to the process of the subject pressing her breasts up against the glass, but of the media's continued trouncing of women who take pride in their sexuality.

Other pieces of note: Dan Witz's Teresa, the beatification of a living woman by way of her iPhone; Sarah Bereza's intricate wood-framed Carina-- a vixen with legs spread, smoking a cigarette by candlelight; and Cathleen Faubert's I Want More Power Over My Fantasies, a tour-de-force video dive into the Id, culminating in a sea of pink cotton candy that cushions our heroine's fall. If only every woman was so lucky.