I saw the Infinity Room on the last day it was open. Got in line at around 8am, got in at 12:54pm. (The original estimate was 3:30.) There was much debate about whether or not to try to take a photo. (I did, quickly, and the beginning, and then put it away and forgot to look at them for half the day. I got two, both blurry.) They were making everyone go in 2 or 3 at a time. You got 30 seconds. (On earlier days, you could go in alone, and were getting 40 or 45 seconds.) 30 seconds was a lot longer than you thought it would have been, but way, way too short. Though I do kind of suspect that if I’d been left in there for 6 minutes, I would have emerged soaking wet and sobbing. The man letting people in was wearing a very ugly shirt, and repeated twice per minute: “You are surrounded by water. Don’t step off the platform. Try not to touch the lights around you. Remember, no flash photography.” It DID look infinite (though at one point I accidentally looked at a corner of the floor and suddenly the illusion broke for a second, and I realized how shockingly small the room actually was). The water was amazing. I talked too much. I should have been quiet. It honestly made me giggly and giddy and dizzy. Like literally light-headed. I want to make one in my closet. If I am given an option for how I’d best prefer to go crazy, it would be by being trapped in that room forever. (“You are surrounded by water. Try not to touch the lights around you.”) The artist’s paintings made me feel bad for her, but the Infinity Room didn’t. I liked it.