Observation

Web3 identity is fluid: you are whoever you pretend to be. That can be liberating but also, paradoxically, isolating. In Fragonard's The Swing, a pink-frocked aristocrat smiles coyly as she offers her lover a glimpse of undergarment. By contrast, our fully exposed swinger smiles toothily, but only a phallic tree trunk seems to bear witness. When we keep our faces shrouded, as our protagonist does, everything feels artificial. Her flesh literally melts from her foot. Which world would you rather live in?

Response 1

I see Saturn devouring his son while hunkered in the shadowy forest of a new father's unconscious. Maybe it's a reference to the desperate sense of mortality that accompanies childbirth. Yet his dazed eyes, in a departure from Goya, suggest acceptance.

Response 2

To me, the ghoulish, spindly shadows stretching from the branches in The Ramble evoke DNA and chromosomes - the fabric of the costumes we wear to life. It seems fitting, then, that you'd long to fill that "hollow mask" with a "sense of identity and soul."

Response 3

"Everything we see hides another thing" (Magritte). How clever to hide a wormhole to General Admission behind a slyly smiling horned amoeba. Inspect that zygote swimming in a fuzz of embryonic activity and you find yourself in an alternative Masquerade.

Revision

The melting flesh to which I pinned my observation seeds the embryonic figures growing in The Ramble. What will they observe?

Material

Wood

Region

ramble

Adornments

Antlers