Sadie Barnette sees the world in fuchsia but not through the rose-colored glasses of old—this is a distinguished viewpoint, synthesized by a language of her own acute creation. It is influenced by familial spaces and legacies marked on faded Polaroids. The inventive vernacular of E-40 and the harmonious rhythms of classic jazz. A plastic couch everlasting through drink spills and cigarette ashes. Rings stacked so tall you can’t bend your fingers on the table to tap nails in moments of annoyance. It’s sparkly and shimmering, imbued with the finest gold. The reflection of rhinestones and the glistening of Swarovski reflecting against a disco ball, when the music is the only thing keeping you from collapsing on the floor. It is…