The one on the left is a cheap key chain doll, but the Scotland guard on the right is an antique doll I bought in Penang, Malaysia. His eyes open and close. He must be a souvenir doll. I have two new ones from London and Denmark.
When I was a kid, my mother caught me playing with a cloth doll under the table. In her rage and fear - or maybe more fear than rage - she snatched the doll away from me and threw it into the fire. I stood in front of the stove and cried, while my doll was being consumed by fire. My mother forbade me to play with dolls.
In my thirties, my mother could not keep me from doing what I want. I started collecting dolls, not exactly to spite her, but to fulfill something I was deprived of as a child. But more than that, I see that dolls are a good way of knowing the world around us. So I collect dolls from different nations, especially folk dolls, puppets, costume and souvenir dolls. My one dream is to open a dolls and toys museum in Antique, Philippines.
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