Masks, Dolls and Puppets

Fragments of a Soul

Who are we beyond the masks we wear? What remains when the stage dissolves and the silence of dolls fills the spaces left by unanswered questions? Since the dawn of self-awareness, humans have shaped faces, carving their loneliness into figures of clay, sculpting wood, painting porcelain. Dolls are not merely toys; they are echoes of our longing to see ourselves reflected in another self-one untouched by pain, suspended in a timeless moment. But how much of our truth hides within these motionless beings?

I painted masks in search of meaning and dolls in search of rediscovery. I wanted to unveil what lies beyond appearances, to understand who people are when they abandon their roles-and when they embrace them. Sometimes, masks conceal betrayal; other times, they are mere fragile shields raised out of fear. Dolls, in turn, embody our deepest desire: to be seen, to be accepted, to be loved. Perhaps that is why, today, some choose to become living dolls-altering their features, smoothing away imperfections, crafting a beauty that does not age but does not truly live either. And yet, beyond every mask and every doll, what remains is the soul-in all its vulnerability and magnificence. A soul that searches, that hopes, that rebuilds itself from fragments of dreams and memories.

As you gaze upon these works, you may recognize a part of yourself within them-a shadow, a thought, an echo of a forgotten story. Or perhaps just a mirror-one that does not deceive, but only asks: who are you, beyond the gaze that searches for me?