Intricate, perceptual, and deceptively simplistic, Daniel B Dias’ “The Thinnest Margin” offers us a glimpse into an inner narrative. Behind the thin veil of delicate beauty is a chest-like shape, where a panel has been pulled back to reveal a sliver of someone, there gaze staring back. We, as the viewers, are immediately drawn into this world; we are the painting for the viewer to glance at. And yet, they barely seem to notice us. We are only partially visible, just as the figure themselves. Though the margin is thin, it is there, barely wide enough to be perceived, and to perceive back. Dias creates this subtle tension effortlessly, holding space for a dialogue of how to stay visible and how to take the time to truly look.