Dolls in Bondage
My mother collected dolls all her live. I grew up in a house full of them. Mom and Dad even had a little doll hospital for a time. They would work on them in our dining room table. My favorite thing was to remove their clothes so I could appreciate their well articulated, little kid glove leather saw dust-filled bodies. This always disturbed my mother as she had put a good deal of work into making or buying attractive clothing: perfect in every detail.
This year my piece occupied on eight by eight foot room, on one end a beautiful custom made glass and wood case, which became a display for four expensive dolls from my mother’s collection. I carefully removed all of their clothing, blindfolded three of them and hung them by their little neck in the center of the room on a handsome wood pedestal. On top of it sat a four-inch glass cube, inside a single bisque 19th century dolls head was submerged in sand up to her little nose. The sand doll stared over at the four dolls in bondage… a silent witness.
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