It is a chance encounter, a mere locking of the eyes, that causes the protagonist, a slightly-famous artist, to hire a decorator and set up a mini-residency in a motel in Sierra Madre less than an hour away from her husband and child in L.A. Instead of driving to NYC and back, the three weeks are spent creating a womb-like sanctuary modeled after Le Bristol in Paris and not having sex with a married man. What one might see as a mid-life crisis becomes her touchstone. If life is such an inevitable struggle, why not seek what you desire, no matter the consequence? Miranda July’s All Fours asks the questions we don’t even allow ourselves to think on the edges of our dreams. Is the need to truly be seen by others incongruous with being partnered? Can we redefine the social ecosystems of a marriage? Why doesn’t anyone talk about the hormonal shifts of menopause? The artist’s pilgrimage in All Fours splits open the traditional yearning to create, makes the mundane lustful, and might rewire your brain.