This painting depicts a gigantic cat whose form ripples through the drapery piled throughout the composition. A human figure, hand supporting her head, lays on top of this stacked drapery while peering down at her phone with a concerned gaze. The figure, rising toward the top of the canvas, is either floating through the air or completely submerged.

Behind the figure, a clock reads just past 5:30—though its blurred appearance gives the impression the hands of the clock are spinning rapidly. The painting evokes a disruption in sleep, or maybe the inability to do so. The work employs muted grays and greens to structure the diffused lighting and foggy atmosphere.

Hoza’s paintings tend to live between two states, such as sleep and consciousness or humor and horror. The artist's compositions suggest a disquiet or looming event underneath the stillness of a reclining figure. Visible traces of the artist's process in the completed painting adds to this unsettling quality. Ghosts from previous layers creep forward, charging the work with a turbulent effect and playful physicality. These works employ muted grays and explosive primary colors, along with a fragmented spatial quality, that draws from the work of artists such as Edwin Dickinson and the moonlit figures of Edvard Munch. Steadily reworking each painting over time, Hoza’s painted world becomes one of shifting planes and constant realignment. Each image works to express the possibility of meaning through the dissolution of figures within a painted space.