Sean Taggart’s work has long chronicled his reaction to an outside world that appears irrational, indifferent, and overtly hostile. With the “Actual Size” paintings, he looks inward to the private world within him, a vision that can be expressed only through the intimacy of the miniature: twelve tiny paintings, each no larger than one square inch. Though he continues to draw upon the narrative conventions of comics and cartoons, these works display a vulnerability that belies their lighter color and mood.

Since childhood, Taggart has been fascinated by all things tiny, and has drawn inspiration for the paintings in “Actual Size” from many pieces in his personal collection: “Nixon pennies” from the 1970s, a small edition of the Brothers Grimm illustrated by David Hockney, Edward Gorey’s Q.V.R. (a 1 _-inch hand-bound book), tiny Frankenstein automata, thimble-sized tubes of real toothpaste, greeting cards and playing cards no bigger than a fingertip.

Miniature painting is an all-but-dead form in the eyes of the art establishment; it is considered a hobbyist’s pursuit, suitable only for the décor of dollhouses. Taggart turns this conceit on its ear by exaggerating the tiny size of these works, presenting them in oversized frames with a magnifying glass attached. This is no mere novelty, but a reflection of the deeply personal nature of the artist’s private convictions and beliefs. The paintings are the visual equivalent of a whisper, demanding close attention.