i return to those images in a futile effort to find the secluded sources of their impact on my perception of my inner universe. maybe i'm afraid of the answers i would get but i cannot stop exposing myself to the emotions caused by those pieces of art. or maybe there are no answers, only archetypal feelings that cannot be reduced to tangible flesh of verbal definitions.
i need to constantly question the self-image of my soul, even when the deconstruction of my self puts my sanity on stake. the dynamics created by the ongoing showdown between self-deception and seeking after truth may lead me closer to the shunning truth.
hans bellmer is one of those unsettling artists. his early etudes in deconstructing the female body, la poup�e still give me an uneasy feeling that there is much more to my (male?) sexuality that i am prepared to admit. his relentless objectification of women, his questioning of the very nature of lust and desire force me into facing some of my most reluctant daemons.
dolls of hans bellmer