Thomas Wictor

Whether they’re real or not, I like faces. I see them everywhere. Years ago I planned to publish a book called Accidental Faces or something similar. I still might do it, but for now, here are some accidental, contrived, and real faces.

This is a universal plug that Eric brought from the Netherlands. It represents the fallacy of the European Union, because each plug is in use in a different country.

After I took the photo, I realized that there’s a screaming zombie Kewpie doll face in the center, it’s eyes filmed over and its mouth agape. That too is emblematic of the European Union.

Here’s my garbage can, which has a Franken-Moai face on it. See the forehead, shadowed eyes, and groaning mouth down at the bottom? It has no nose, but the hinged lid makes replacing the brain a snap. Wouldn’t it be great if we all had that feature?

This is Thomased, my father’s face on my head.

I look like a smirking, utterly disreputable bird of prey. Combining my features with Dad’s left us both the worse for it.

Me layered over a nameless ancestor. Suddenly I’m an alcoholic, communist professor, embittered because my twenty-two-year-old female students no longer find me attractive.

One of my daily medications and a seed pod from the orphan tree in my front yard. I see stuff like this in my dreams. And under my bed.

A devil-E.T. screeching out of the darkness. It’s a plastic carrier for three jugs of spaghetti sauce, purchased at Sam’s Club when I could still eat processed foods. The blue “eyes” are the bottoms of toothpick containers.

An Inuit totem, made of two ice-cube trays, two AA batteries, and the tops of two Ensure bottles.

Since I was using the scanner to make faces, I decided to see what would happen if I scanned my own visage.

It’s the best self-portrait I’ve ever done. I urge everyone to scan their own faces. You’ll see things you’ve overlooked your whole life.