SCARECROW, 2023. Scarecrow and mask made from collaged photos of my face, hair, needles, electronics, spanish moss, flowers, dead insects.
Scarecrow is a protective mask as well as a reflection of the stigma I experienced growing up as a minimally speaking autistic person. When you don’t speak in a talking world, people assume all sorts of things about you - they may be angry, they may study you like a puzzle, they may think you owe them your voice. My face is repulsive, even dangerous if I remove the shields of my needles, I have unmoving eyes and a flat expression. I am hidden and I am fitted with a voice modulator to disguise and protect my voice that people have tried to pry out.
“I don’t want you to know I’m here. Behind these objects and screens. I would’ve written in invisible ink. Held my breath so there’s no sign of me. Left the scene altogether. But I’ve been alone for so long. Keeping my dust to myself. Watching from the window. Watching out for my body. When I want to be touched, I spread my arms like a scarecrow. Against the dark skies of this computer love. I reach out how I can. I dance for the camera. I evade myself to evade the eyes.”
