We All Wear Masks

I have always loved to watch people. I notice those around me; I read their faces and watch their body language as if for clues. I see the masks we wear every day. If I can see the mask, then perhaps I can see what’s underneath it. I learn so much from watching people put on one of my masks. Although for some, the experience is threatening, for others it holds a deep, mysterious attraction. I like to witness them experience a juicy chance to pretend that anything that goes on inside can be truly hidden. It’s odd to me how ironic the mask is­­­­—revealing and concealing are no more than two sides of the same coin. My face is a mask; the mask, an instrument of revelation. It’s difficult to tell the two apart. Nearly two decades have passed since I created my first leather mask. My ability to explain this act to myself has deepened over time. For now, the Why? question seems to have transformed itself into a statement: We all wear masks! We can’t help it. Without them, we would cease to be what we are—human. And so, when the mask calls, we answer. And before we know it, we realize that how we answer is yet another mask, and so on and on…

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