In the mid-sixties onward I was a breeder, trainer and exhibitor of Morgan horses...it was always amazing to me and then subsequently watched intently by me how the body language and demeanor of a student would affect the horse on which I had chosen to mount them...also at end of day , late dusk, as I would call in mares and their foals from distant pastures I would intentionally reshape my body profile in the falling light and marvel at how quickly they became tuned to the presence of danger...series dreams of similar self shaping have been part of my life lately, which I only then recognize by light of day as going back to those times in my life..
My reaction to these one hundred face projects is similar...a momentary wandering around in how detached we have become from the rising of hairs on the back of our neck and inability to see the world in anything but the most commercially promoted screen view...and want so much more for my grandchildren...but the genie is out of the bottle I guess and Pandora's box lies open...