Hiding faces in plain sight

I started by sculpting faces. Faces have always been safe bedrock for me. Retreating into familiar settings I've ended up making dozens of clay busts. I love how hands can contort into scenes of action. I admire how flesh sculpted tense, can show a full body in movement. But there is something about faces, the windows of the soul, they have always draw me back in.

Humans, we are built to see and interpret faces. Our brains churn through huge amounts of raw data every time we interact with another person. The crease of a smile, the wrinkle of wincing eyes, we process these subtle physical adjustments into personal, deep emotions.  The innate sense to see a face and process meaning with such accuracy, is an ability I find astonishing. We read faces and faces say a lot. Maybe this is why we see them everywhere, in our art, in our clouds or in the moon's rocks, we see our expressions.

To experience pareidolia is to misinterpret sensory data to perceive a figure/form. Once thought to be a calling card for psychosis we now understand this behavior is a main stay of human nature.

The human brain is a black box of awe inspiring reactions. Understanding how this folded, wet muscle can operate at such a high level requires us to examines the folds of beings whose brain cannot operate at such a high level. Patient CK is the anonymous pseudonym given to a man whom had suffered a traumatic brain injury. Blunt force trauma from a motor-vehicle had altered his mind to where he could no longer recognize objects. His eyes could see them, but his brain could not process them. To CK the leg of a human was as mysterious as the legs of chair, things seen but not understood. In the processing factory of CK's brain there was one production line left in fully intact. CK could see faces. Not only see, but recognize, understand and relate. A man whom didn't know a cup of tea when it smack bang right in-front of his nose could see and understand a smug expression. When shown the uncanny paintings Giuseppe Arcimboldo, a painter whom loved to could construct human portraits out fruits and vegetables. CK could see a face, yet no fruit, he could see eyes and noses but not carrots and apples. Missing the forest for the trees, CK missed the fennel for the face.

Loaded into an MRI his brain sparkled whenever he was shown portraits. The fusiform gyrus a long segment stretching the undercarriage of the brain pulsed with energy. Our gyrus lights up too! We share the same lobes and abilities used to recognize faces that CK had.

Our skull is a highly competitive real-estate market. Grey and white matter has been pushed into high-density housing.  Sculpted and refined through evolutionary processes our brains have reluctantly given out zoning permits to only services deemed essential.  Alongside whether are fleeing or fighting, horny or hungry, the brain dedicates valuable space for us to recognize a friendly face.

Faces will always have a special place for me, both in my art and my temporal lobe.