A Death (2019)

You are a file, compressed as much as possible, flat like the notebook in the scanner. Eyes look at you, but do they see you all at once or read you from left to right or from top to bottom, like the scanner’s tongue, or they go round in circles trying to find a focal point?

And why should there be any distance between the eyes and you when there was none between the notebook and the glass, and what is even the distance between it and the corresponding pixels? Is it a cable’s length or a line of zeroes and ones or the distance between a life and a death?

Text created at ‘We Make the Yolk Photography’ workshop by Victoria Doyle for ‘Statement of Being’ exhibition, August 2019

A2 C-Type print nailed to the wall