Banks of Noon at Some Clouds Los Angeles

LUCEM DEMONSTRATE UMBRA /It is light that makes a shadow

May I have the time? To ask for the time is to seek context for the moment;  to tell time is to make it—by assigning meaning to the earth’s path through the sun’s light. As the summer solstice in the Northern  Hemisphere draws near, the days lengthen until the sun appears to be  directly overhead, at its northernmost latitude: the Tropic of Cancer. Sunlight is abundant, and time with it.

The faces of Cameron Cameron’s sundials tell time, but they also make time. Each sundial is a composite of images, texts, and miniature  adornments drawn from Cameron’s collection of found objects (Delicates, 2019-ongoing). Hunting dogs pulled from 18th century Dutch paintings, snakes, butterflies, and poems are embedded in the sundials’ faces; insect wings glimmer on them like charms. Gathered on the  banks of the LA river, Cameron’s sundials are like a collection of  luminescent UFOs or a gaggle of Roombas, poised to float or fly south.  

With each bright round I imagine a portal: to long days and white  nights, to a re-enchanted world.
— Kate Rouhandeh