Welsh dresser (w2)
Fig.1 Davoudi, M.(2015)"Dull". London.
The Doll; intended to be beautiful and cute, this disconcerting and even frightful doll with curious blue eyes, the body seemingly skinned with a red velvet fabric, no hand or feet. Inside, some wheat; very organic and despite the scary exterior, safe for a child to play with. The bizarre head - with 2 holes back of it - features a blank space where the eyes would have been installed. Minuscule in size, roughly 2.5 inches or 65mm - small enough to hide away and pack discreetly. Loose stitch work defines where the head is secured and fitted to the velvet-adorned body, which is more look like a small bag than a hominid form. For children, it may have offered strange sensations with the novelty of opening the body peering the inside, removing some of wheat to make it slimmer, or alternatively to fill more to make it fatter. White velvet appendage-like forms serve as hands and elicit a marked contrast with the body. The small bald head without facial hair of any kind defies a way to easily categorize the gender, altogether making for a unique object with resonance that reaches beyond the superficial description of simply being a doll. To quote Louise Bourgeois, "the act of sewing is a process of emotional repair".
Fig.1 Davoudi, M.(2015)"Dull". London.
SEPARATION NO SEPARATION
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( FEAR ) ( NO FEAR )
Self Self
Isolation Oneness
Abandonment Connection
Fear Clarity
Deprivation Plenty
Anger Forgiveness
Illusion of control Letting go
Suffering Bliss
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Fig.3:Davoudi,M.(2008) "The Death Of Memories" [ Acrylic painting and Mix media on canvas].Personal collection, London.
Full 2003 London, very cold and quiet night, nightmare ; Chabi and Grandpa have gone, I dreamed that, but it was true. when I rang Mum next morning she was crying.
I was crying too, feeling lost and miserable in this new country, there is no-one to know to go to now, lonely in a loft room in the old Victorian building in west London, the loud police car alarm siren woo-woo-woo, feels like prison, frightening and helpless situation, because I'm living in exile, separated from my roots, friends and family.
I'm not allowed to go back to home never again, and never had chance to see my beloved doggy Chabi or to say goodbye to Grandpa for the last time.
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Thank god you're not died. I'm please that at least you are with me in here, so I can talk to you, like always...
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To quote Sigmund Freud, "I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection".
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