Something has happened to my brain where i've become so maddeningly clucky and in love with the idea of child-bearing that dolls are my current ultimate obsession. It must be a method of reverting back to childhood in a time of insane stress, or perhaps i'm just projecting onto these miniature porcelain people because i wish i had my own angel baby to tend to.
My bedroom is starting to look like an adoption agency and my loved ones perpetuate the theme by gifting me with dolls and accompanying me to auctions to procure early 20th century bisque bebe's.
I am a grown up, i swear!
Can't help loving what you love, and can't help loving it to death.
one of the rare drawings i've found time to do this year
frills for days on this lil' lady!
fimo baby brooches i made a few years back
wigless & legless boogie baby
friends begged me not to buy this creepy one
lassie in a handmade 1930's dress
cornflower angel with lopsided wig
beautiful Eloise with the baby she had to leave behind at the auction
little Olive and her glass puppy
Muchacha doll face bag
in the new room i moved into last week - a doll amongst dolls?
i can only dream!