Welcome.
Just some musings about the doll.
The constant of the doll in popular culture. The perpetual insistence of culture to ground the representation if ourselves in thin-skinned plastic moulds, robust fibreglass or metal scaffolds. This is to me a recurring question. Of what I don’t know. Why are we? A recurring question of the body, the acceptable body, the normalised body. A static and unchanging body rigid in its denial of the ravages of time and disease.
A fascination with hollow shells with painted brows, forced smiles and dusty internal echos is the purpose of this post. The artistic compulsion to construct mutated, doll like human forms that antagonise the viewer, a stump here, a mouth papered shut there, a bulbous head and distended abdomen, yearning to be free of imposed societal restrictions.
The ephemeral nature of the doll coupled with its reliance on consumer culture, ever changing and degrading itself just out of reach.
You’ll see more of it here.
Eventually.
