Spontaneity is at the center of Martins's practice. She mixes watercolor with hydrogen peroxide and bleach, letting images swim to the surface, and the final result reveals itself only once the work has dried. She steers where she can with brushes, pipettes, spray bottles, magic erasers, and sandpaper, and releases control where she can't. Her monochromatic figures glow with unexpected color, often with an undertone of quiet danger: children at play on the edge of something lethal, a boy floating in a pool with his head just above the water, balloons on the verge of deflating. Women appear in delicate, layered washes, limbs flowing into one another. Throughout, Martins asks whether childhood was ever really simple, or only appears so in retrospect.