'windows to the soul' book box story
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We like to believe our eyes belong to us.
That what we see is chosen. That where we look is free will.
Windows to the Soul challenges that assumption.
On one page, a blacked out silhouette of a man stands as a vendor. He is selling eyes. Not metaphorically. Literally. Rows of them, detached and ready for purchase. Across from him, a masked figure evaluates the selection. Behind them, a control center hums with quiet authority. Screens glow. Eyes float. A standing mirror stretches upward and from its surface, a hand emerges, offering yet another eye to the unknown buyer.
The transaction feels clinical.... ordinary... almost administrative.
The piece is my interpretation of the unseen systems that shape our gaze. The forces that determine what we focus on, what we fear, what we desire. Our attention has become one of the most valuable commodities in the world. It is tracked, studied, sold, redirected.
We scroll. We consume. We react.
Meanwhile, somewhere beyond the visible frame, someone benefits from where our eyes land. The title plays with the familiar phrase that the eyes are windows to the soul. But what happens when the window is rented out. When the glass is tinted. When the direction of our gaze is guided by hands we never see. This piece asks a simple question that is not simple at all.
If someone else profits from what we look at.... how much of our seeing is truly ours?