As I meandered through Marisol Rendón’s installation, “So, Dragons Do Exist?” at Luis De Jesus Los Angeles gallery last summer (this was before I had even glanced at the contrarian, almost self-negating parenthetical subtitle, “Considerations of the Unavoidable Syndrome of Illusion”), I felt as if I were confronting the Kübler-Ross stages of grief acted out by Komodo dragons (all five of them,...










