Lasercut paper, photographic C-print. 54 x 77 in. Singular.
"Last week when I googled your name, this mugshot came up. I cried when I saw it, but it's good to know that you are still alive"
How do we understand an image which comes through the tech ether and assaults us? This is emotional violence inflicted by the internet's ability to connect us to an image. Hiding in the overflowing archive of internet images, a few typed letters into Google and one click of the mouse brought me to something which I did not want to see. When I found it, it was too late. The image lives forever in my mind. And forever on the internet.
It is the image I go back to now, a touchstone. A new monument. Her mugshot assaults me and I want to cover it, to cover my eyes.
The ubiquity of the image abounds; the bust, the headshot, the mugshot, the selfie, for the yearbook, a work ID and your facebook profile. I enlarge the image. I obscure it with my experience - words cut into black paper. She can only be viewed through my voice. Ironically, her eye peers out from the word “good.” Pieces of her are visible through my story: it veils, protects and confines her, and it also protects me.