Dolls are honest. Dolls are a mirror. They say what you say, feel what you feel and do what you do, with an underlying effort to impose order on a chaotic world. 

The Dollmaker and the Doll Collector are forever connected through these tangible shadows, these miniature humanoid bodies that hold emotions and trauma, unanswerable questions and hope; endlessly listening to the stories they bear upon their clay little shoulders - our stories. Sometimes we might forget about them, sometimes we might hear them whisper or scream or cry. But whether whispered, screamed or unspoken, truth remains. We are a wonderful mess of blood and bone and beauty, and when pain rises dolls can hold us.

And when the mirror claims us and our reflection dissolves, the dolls will still echo our stories.

“Is it my future, this distortion,

or merely the haunting past,

or what sense tells me: the palpable divide

between flesh and ash”

- “Mirror”, R. Foerster