The Mind's Eye

The Mind’s Eye by Launa Eddy
Hand-formed steel, multi-panel construction, 1,000+ hours of fabrication

Some sculptures arrive fully formed in the imagination, then take years—and countless burns, bends, and welds—to coax into the world. The Mind’s Eye began as a surrealist sketch Launa Eddy made while studying at Anderson Ranch in Aspen, Colorado. It became a tabletop bronze, then a dream in steel, and finally, a towering presence in the New Mexico desert.

Eddy, a New York–based artist and set designer, works in a style she calls “minimalist surrealism”—feminine, figurative, and wild at the edges. Here, a woman’s face, lips painted a decisive red, is held aloft by a great curving beam. Above her floats a cloud, from which strange, animal-like forms emerge: the unbridled jungle of the mind. It’s part totem, part daydream, part confession.

The piece is entirely hand-formed steel, crafted panel by panel in studios across the United States. Eddy sculpted the form in foam, then cut hundreds of small steel segments, shaping each one by hand before tack-welding them into place. It’s labor-intensive, precise, and dangerous—Eddy lit herself on fire more than once in the process. But in her words, “there aren’t a lot of female welders out there. I feel empowered knowing how to do it, and even more empowered knowing I can create big, beautiful things with this skill.”

The install at Art City was an exercise in choreography. The Mind’s Eye is cantilevered, unbalanced in a way that makes lifting it a careful, nerve-wracking dance. With a team of riggers, cranes, and a few deep breaths, it found its footing in the high desert wind.

Symbolically, the work is about perspective: how your history—strength, pain, joy—holds you up and shapes the way you see the world. The cloud is the restless mind; the face is the self, anchored yet in motion. The red lips? A power move.

First shown at Burning Man, The Mind’s Eye has found its permanent home here, among Art City’s open skies and sculptural companions. Eddy says the greatest reward isn’t just the finished piece—it’s the community that forms around it. “These pieces are finding a home here, and they’re going to be appreciated. That’s a beautiful thing.”