Mirror, Mirror

I look upon their frozen faces and wonder what they are thinking.  Are dolls inherently use to being loved and abandoned?  I hate that word and all that goes with it.  I haven’t quite abandoned them, they are not in boxes in the cupboard.  But I have developed a weird distance to them.  As if they all held memories that I no longer wish to experience.

Living in Scotland has changed me fundamentally.  Or aging has.  Or the combination.  I have sort of lost recognition of myself.  The mirror shows a completely different face than the one I have known.  I mused over the thought that if I could gaze into the mirror of myself  at say, 7 years of age, would I recognise myself any better?  And so perhaps this longing to recognise what I once knew as me is what I am attempting to do with my dolls.  If I cannot see myself, how can I possibly see them?

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One thought on “Mirror, Mirror

  1. Lovely to discover a post that I must have missed ‘popping’ up while I was away. I can kind of relate to what you are saying here…I am not sure who I am any more either.

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