Titled after the inscription on the last page of a private album produced by my grandmother in the 1940s, “if by chance this book should roam, box its ears and send it home,” is a never-finished and never-edited series of images taken in and around the home, the archive, and the family I know and don’t know.
2017-
Archival inkjet print
16x20”
unlocked-looking is composed with a 35mm point-and-shoot camera through my laptop screen while viewing unlocked surveillance cameras. The unlocked cameras available to view are primarily pointed towards areas which appear less focussed on the overall premise of security, and more on the idea of looking for the sake of looking. As I spend more time with the available streams, I question if there remains any systems in place for privacy in a time when surveillance is inescapable. The point-and-shoot camera has a long history of acting as a tool for documenting experiences to say “I was here” for the archive, but many of the links are now broken, the view returns to the private domain, and all I’m left with is an archive of frozen moments from places that never knew I was looking at it in the first place.
