Waking Dream


Bill Jones, After Henry Peach-Robinson, 2017, cyanotype, 26 x 30 inches


Waking Dream traces the early development of an aesthetic common to photography, film and new media based on montage and reflection or mirroring.  The project includes video works with historical imagery sourced from the Internet, animated by live sampling and 3D animation software, as well as analogue and digital prints that reinterpret historical works through the lens of digital media.



Bill Jones, Waking Dream, 2017, HD video, 8:43 min.




Bill Jones, Panorama, 2017, HD video,  2:30 min.


Still Images


Equivalences. Click anywhere on the grid above for slide show.






Bill Jones, After Florence Henri, 2017, cyanotype, 26 x 30 inches.




Bill Jones, Prelude, 2016, HD video,  2:30 min.



Bill Jones, Moonstruck, 2017, HD video, 2:38 min.



There once was a women named Hypatia who went walking along the shore of a small lake near the city of Calumnia. As she walked, looking down into the water, she was taken by her own reflection, held there on the surface. Hypatia starred at the woman on the water as if she were another. A wind from the East drew crossing patterns of rippling water fingers compelling her to reach out towards the pool. Her fingers touched the water, cool.

Under her reflection was another face, a face under the water. She began to weep at its beauty. Tears flowed from their eyes.

“Why are you crying?” said a gentle voice. A woman stood behind her blocking the sun. Hypatia couldn’t stop the tears. Water flowed into water. The woman moved on.

Hypatia placed her cloak on the grassy slope and knelt down, little waves lapping at her feet. She reached into the water and felt something hard and smooth. She pulled it out of the lake. Her hands were dripping but the picture was dry. There was the face within her face, the eyes that had looked back at her. She held the wooden panel at arms length and studied the face rendered on its gold surface, a man with a dark beard. She looked into his luminous eyes. She felt joy at first then unease as if she had revealed a secret. She looked around. No one had seen her rescue the icon from the lake.

She wrapped the picture in her cloak and ran home.

Clouds swirled overhead. The sun moved in and out making the shadows deep.

The house was small and sparse. In the late afternoon before the candles were lit the twilight made the windows glow. In near darkness she unwrapped the golden portrait glowing with ethereal light.

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