One of my old aunts had this face above, on her wall when I was a child. I thought it was really scary, even if it was very small in size. I don't find it scary anymore, but rather unattractive and it sure wouldn't end up hanging on my wall under any circumstances.
I'm not sure if it was the same aunt or another relative, but someone had a palm sized terracotta bear hanging on the wall, it sort of climbed up the wall. That tiny thing made me cry and scream every time I looked at it, so they had to take it down when I came to visit.
I actually have got that bear myself now, and it's really very cute, not the least bit scary. Strange how mind works. I have absolutely no idea whatsoever what I did find so unbelievably scary about that small clay bear once upon a time.
This fear - I wouldn't really call it a phobia as such - of statues is actually mixed with fascination. I'm amazed how someone can be so talented and make a piece of clay, marble, stone, wood, iron and so on, look so real and alive, those details is amazing. And they look so alive. Too alive.
But the creepy feeling is accompanied by intrigue. And Glyptoteket in Copenhagen is, believe it or not, one of my favourite museums. Even if I find myself looking over my shoulder all the time while sauntering there...
I absolutely had to bring a bust home with me when I was in Crete years ago. It's a young man's head, and sort of in life size. At that time I lived at home with my parents still, and I had the bust in my room, right beside my bed - except at night when I couldn't sleep having that chopped off head staring at me...
The head is still with me, now standing in my kitchen window. Perhaps not the most befitting of places, but at least he won't come frighten me at night. I hope.
And yes I do find the sad Little mermaid in Copenhagen's harbour inlet kind of spooky too. But what won't you do in order to at least try and get a decent picture...
On our little trip to Dalarna some days ago, we visited the estate Hildasholm - once home to Swedish author and medical doctor Axel Munthe and his English wife Hilda. Axel Munthe is also well known for his Villa San Michele in Capri, Italy.
It had a lovely vast garden, and not too many statues *phew*. But there were four of them on the backside veranda. Broken, molded, old and torn, missing of limbs. A sad bunch really. And far from life sized. Still. Taking this picture - which I absolutely felt the urge to do - sent chills down my spine...
The guy is just in desperate need of a moisture facial masque I suppose, but nevertheless he eminated something less pleasant... *I must have read too many books...*
On the other side of the house I found this little chubby cherub boy. Who can possibly find him scary? Or perhaps, who knows what evil lies beneath a pretty, seemingly innocent face. I've seen the odd movie, or two, read some books, can imagine quite a bit for myself... I'm not easily fooled by a baby face like this. Oh no, shouldn't think so.
I see what you mean about statues! I have always found shop mannequins to be scary, especially, when passing them at night! very sinister!
ReplyDeleteNot to mention waxdolls...
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