I have a thing for heads. Doll heads, mannequin heads, sculpted heads. They can be attached to bodies but that’s just incidental for the most part. As long as they’re weird, I find them wonderful. The weirder and older and more dilapidated, the better. I can’t really explain this obsession. And full disclosure: they do not creep me out in the slightest.
Yesterday I posted some of my absolute favorite junk store heads. Favorite in the sense that they’re wonderfully kitschy and vintage. While I was curating my archives for the photos, I came across some other heads that I have to admit are equally fascinating to me...but these are actually disturbing. Yet I must confess: I love them, too.
I am not politically correct. I won’t pretend we are all the same and that life is some utopian paradise where we can all frolic giddily through fields of classless, genderless, color blind flowers and pretend that history never happened...and isn’t destined to repeat. I like calling it like I see it. But in order to do so, I first must to be able to see it. So I truly appreciate that these horribly wrong pieces of twisted Americana still exist.
They need to be seen. Appreciated. They need to perform their duty of shock and awe and even absurdity and humor. They’re glorious in their blatant honesty and poor taste.
I don’t like dirty little secrets. I want to know what I’m up against. We can’t address what we are not fully aware of. We cannot change what we do not acknowledge and confront. And that’s where these sublime works of ugly authenticity come in.
But enough of my soap boxing. Enjoy these seriously bigoted art offerings. May they make you Smile. Laugh. Gasp a little. And think. A lot.
