The Gaze

On a recent walk, I started to make a count of survailence cameras. Within a few blocks, I gave up... just too many. Started thinking about The Gaze. Lacan, Faucault... remembered that the 3rd piece of art I made--last year at this time, I called, The Gaze. The frame once held an old photo--of my mother. Her signiture can be seen at the top, signed with her maiden name. All these things came together--that we are made into objects every where we go by those cameras... the images of which remain hidden to us. We are not permitted to see into the mirror, simultaneously turned into Things and erased. Seemed the perfect... not even a metaphor--or symbol, the very reality of our Late Capitalist demise.