Triplication

The machine on her face is not a mask. It is an additional structure — something laid over the face to measure or process what the face produces, which is: smiling, crying, holding a flower, reducing the flower to its parts. By the end she has become three, each copy carrying the same machine, the same flower, the same undecidable expression. Not multiplication but the image's acknowledgment that one was never enough to contain what was being asked of it.