People always wonder about my fascination with dolls, and assume nefarious intent, which couldn’t be more opposite from the truth. Consider that we manufacture these objects in our own image as comfort objects for the most innocent among us. This is what happened that sparked my interest in the subject:

I used to ride my bike to my studio each day before dawn. One morning I passed a plastic bag in the middle of Broadway, and something compelled me to stop and go back. As I approached I was horrified to see the distinct form of a baby inside the bag. It wasn’t until I actually touched it that I realized its contents were not human, but instead a very realistic looking doll.

As my heart re-started, packrat that I am, I hooked the bag to my handlebar and finished my ride to work, where I tossed the doll onto one of my piles of stuff for future consideration.

A couple of years later we had twins. A friend gave us a bag of stuffed animals and my daughter immediately latched onto one of them, and never let go. One time, Becca lost Black Doggy. and the world stopped spinning for her, I learned the psychology topic of the Transitional Object.

Some time after that I was at the studio and I came across the bag with the doll, and I was immediately overcome with crushing guilt as I realized I had been keeping this doll hostage from some little person who likely had loved it as much as Becca loved Black Doggy. Improbable as the mission was, I was driven to take a picture of the doll, make a pile of photocopies, and plaster the Upper West Side of NYC with posters of it announcing the “Found” doll..

I didn’t get a call, so I decided to give the doll a fitting tribute by painting a dignified portrait of it. I wasn’t interested in its physical attributes as much as the idea of it being a vessel that contained all of the love and pain and hopes and dreams of some little child who loved her as much as my daughter loved her comfort object. It was my responsibility to draw that out from her.

And a weird thing happened after that. As we navigated the kids’ circuit of NYC – parks, playgrounds, museums, bookstores stores, and the like, I found lost dolls everywhere, and I felt the same emotion every time.

To me, dolls represent the innocence of youth. Using them in my art is usually my commentary on the loss of innocence.

I have always been fascinated by the specific material nature of things I encounter, and always loved to make stuff. (Without assigning any qualitative value to it because it is what it is and not any sort of brag-) I am an empath. Thus, I feel unseen stories that can and should be told within the people and things I encounter.

Life as an artist can be personally rewarding, but is also inconvenient, maddening… The frustrating parts are largely attributable to the realities of responsibilities to/expectations of others, but especially to factors such as society’s general perception that what we do is self-indulgent and superfluous. On the contrary, I would argue that artists play a essential role in contributing to the culture in which they live. The ones attuned to their surroundings become de-facto historians of that time and place, and their yield is time capsules for future generations to reflect upon.

My upbringing was filled with acrimony and abandonment, and I have been perpetually drawn to the underdog, forgotten, unwanted. Unfortunately, this viewpoint can come into direct conflict with a viable career in the arts, as most people want to live with artworks that make them feel happy. I am well aware that I come across to others as heavy and preachy and, at times, angry, But I am desperate to fight against complacency, and I feel that people are becoming inured to the myriad problems that confront our basic humanity, and fighting zombyism is a worthy battle.

The thing that seems most important to me is the truth. There are a lot of inexpedient aspects about a life in the arts, but one benefit is to have a vehicle to explore and express the meaning of things, and then share theresults with others. The challenge is to examine subjects as objectively as possible. I do subscribe to the notion of art as personal therapy, as it can keep one level and grounded. But I also believe that it can be instructive, particularly when it focuses on issues that a viewer may not want to think about on their own, but are compelled to in the context of a cultural encounter.