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It's interesting how we create things and consume them, and part of each creation stays with us,
frequently leaving traces of chemicals and metals. In essence, we are turning ourselves into cyborgs
from the inside out.
This life-sized, gender-neutral doll was dressed as a real baby, hollowed-out in the head and limbs and then filled
with various different metal and plastic pieces, representing the ten most common toxins in our environment.
The baby took on a unique feel and sound after the metals were added. Initially, the head was really heavy
and flopped from side to side. Over time, however, the pieces added to the head and limbs worked their way into the
torso, even though I hadn't hollowed this part out. Now the baby feels strangely lumpy and vaguely sharp in all
parts of its body. It also has an industrial oily-metal smell.
As I carried it around campus, I got lots of double-takes and people exclaiming "Oh! I thought that was a real baby."
When I explained it was a cyborg and offered to let them hold it, most politely declined.
When I first brought the cyborg baby home, my cat Monica hissed and swatted at its face. She took the long way
through the living room to avoid being too close to it. But one day, I caught her taking a nap on it, proving that even
the strangest cyborgs can infiltrate society and be loved.
It's interesting how we create things and consume them, and part of each creation stays with us,
frequently leaving traces of chemicals and metals. In essence, we are turning ourselves into cyborgs
from the inside out.
This life-sized, gender-neutral doll was dressed as a real baby, hollowed-out in the head and limbs and then filled
with various different metal and plastic pieces, representing the ten most common toxins in our environment.
The baby took on a unique feel and sound after the metals were added. Initially, the head was really heavy
and flopped from side to side. Over time, however, the pieces added to the head and limbs worked their way into the
torso, even though I hadn't hollowed this part out. Now the baby feels strangely lumpy and vaguely sharp in all
parts of its body. It also has an industrial oily-metal smell.
As I carried it around campus, I got lots of double-takes and people exclaiming "Oh! I thought that was a real baby."
When I explained it was a cyborg and offered to let them hold it, most politely declined.
When I first brought the cyborg baby home, my cat Monica hissed and swatted at its face. She took the long way
through the living room to avoid being too close to it. But one day, I caught her taking a nap on it, proving that even
the strangest cyborgs can infiltrate society and be loved.