Teal Magic Art Doll – From a 2000 Art Swap

In 2000, I met other dollmakers online, and participated in art doll swaps.

What is an art swap?

A “art swap” is when artists make several pieces of art – usually identical or nearly alike, though each design is unique, and individually crafted with love.

Then, each artist sends the required number of items (the pieces of art) to the swap’s host.

The host then sends one of each to other participants. (The host keeps one for themselves, as a “thank you” for the work involved in hosting.)

Each participant receives one item of art less than they sent to the swap. (That’s how the host gets to keep one of each.)

“Teal Magic” was the name of the first series of art/assemblage dolls I made for an art doll swap. That’s her, in the small photo below.

an artdoll from 2000 - art that's a doll... or a doll that is art!

What is an art doll?

An “art doll” (or “artdoll”) is a handmade figure – like a doll – that’s created as art.

It’s like sculpture, but designed as a doll. Not necessarily one you’d play with, but certainly one to display.

Each one is made by hand, though they may be part of a series of art dolls that look alike.

That’s one of my art dolls, at right. She’s called “Teal Magic” because her predominant color is a teal blue, and I like to pretend she’s magical, like a fairy. (And yes, she has wings!)

How I Made Her

  • Her body is a simple wooden block, painted with copper-colored paint.
  • I photocopied a corset and hand colored it, and then glued that image onto the block, to represent her torso.
  • I added small, wired wings at her back. They’re colored turquoise, and rubber-stamped with a wing design on rice paper.
  • Her head is a translucent white 35mm film canister. Her face is paper, printed and hand-colored.
  • Her hair springs out of the film canister.   The hair is yarn, embroidery floss, and some wires with beads attached.
  • The arms are sparkly ribbon with glass beads for hands.
  • The legs are made from vintage, plastic “crystals” (probably from a lamp or chandelier) and antique buttons covered where they were attached to the body.

I made six of these art dolls, kept one (that I still have in 2024), and sent the rest to the swap.

Trivia: At the time, Geoff, one of my SoHo chatroom friends (from GeoCities, an early blogging platform) joked that I’d named the dolls after him.  His surname (in real life) is Teale.

I’m still very proud of those art dolls.  At the time, no one else was making anything like them.

Here’s my original post about this art doll

This is exactly what I posted at my GeoCities (Soho/6708) website, way back when (meaning: at or before 2000)…

The theme of this exchange was simply “Art Fetish Doll,” and the only guideline was for the doll to be less than six inches tall (to make shipping easier).

We could send up to six dolls, and receive different ones in return, one less than we sent. (I sent five, so I’ll receive four back.)

I started with an empty plastic film canister, and a bagful of old plastic Christmas ornaments that look like cut glass from a chandelier.

My first step was to find a Victorian face image, to tweak and then reduce to collage onto the film canister. I used a Dover clipart book for this.

Next, I decided to make her body from the wooden blocks I’d recently purchased at eBay, for my unmounted rubber stamps.

Big mistake. The hardwood of the blocks was nearly impenetrable, and I had to insert four small screw eyes, two for her arms and two for her legs. It took forever! *grin and shrug*

My next step was to drive to Harvard Square (Cambridge, Massachusetts) to find the perfect beads for her hands. I already had the pink-and-green sheer & iridescent silk ribbon for her arms.

I bought heavy blue glass beads, which look like beach glass from old Coke bottles.

Then I shopped at a seedy local flea market for o-l-d magazines, to find the perfect corset image, to tweak, print, accent by hand, and then glue to each copper-painted wood block. This represented her torso.

Her hair — which is NOT accurately represented in the photo — is actually a deep, juicy teal color. Think of the most remarkable teal you’ve ever seen on a duck. That’s the color of the chenille yarn I used for her hair.

I separated the strands of some copper-colored (metallic) embroidery floss, and wove some of them through the teal yarn/hair, too.

Finally, in her hair, I have copper wires, intricately twisted and looped, with pearls strung on them. There are three of these wires in the hair of each doll.

The hair has been packed into the film canister and held in place with hot glue, so the hair seems to spill out, dreadlock-style.

Her legs are the plastic “crystal” chandelier-style pieces, with holes drilled in them. I used the hole in each leg to attach an antique mother-of-pearl button to the front of the leg, and tie light teal-colored embroidery floss through the button and the crystal. Each leg was then loosely attached at a screw eye on the front of the block.

When she sits on the edge of a desk or table, her legs swing down in front of her.

On her back, I placed wings. I stamped a dragonfly-style wing design with turquoise ink, on rice paper. I cut out two of these pieces for each doll: a front and back of the wings. Inside, like a sandwich, I inserted a very thin brass wire, and glued the layers together.

I attached the wings to the back of the copper-painted block, using a small carpet tack. Finally, I painted the carpet tack white (to match the white, rice paper edges of the wings) and bent the wings a bit, so they look realistic.

Five of these dolls were sent to this exchange, early in July.

Dreams / True Story Collage

What kinds of stories can art tell? And can you be part of that process?

I believe most artists want their work to be interactive… emotionally, anyway.

My collages used to be about me. The art was mine. The stories were mine, too.

Now, with this new collage – the first in about a decade – I see myself assembling pieces of a story.

It’s not necessarily my story.

In fact, each viewer is the owner.

The story they see in my collages is theirs alone… unless they share it with others, of course.

The scan of this collage, above, is preliminary. The bottom edge of the torn paper (below her left boot) is actually just as ragged as the rest, but the scanner didn’t include it. (I’ll fix this, later.)  Also, the gold trailing behind her is bright & shiny, but – in the scan – it’s dull. (I’ll make sure it shows when the collage is fully finished. At this point, it’s not actually mounted on a contrasting background.)

So… what is her story?

Here are elements and questions to consider, looking at this collage:

Is she walking – perhaps running – towards something, or away from it, or both? The right side of the collage support (white) is torn and untidy, while the right side was cut with a ruler. Does that mean anything in the context of her story?

“Dreams” and “true story” are separated. Are they still connected? Does her true story support her dreams, or has the truth fallen off and it’s now at odds with her dreams?

Likewise, “a voice”… is it fractured? Or is her inner voice leading the way, a little here and a little there, and how long will her journey be? (As I see it, both “a voice” and “How long” are sort of floating in front of her.)

Perhaps the building (a symbol of tradition, or authority?) supports her. Maybe it’s interrupting her progress, and she’ll soon leave it behind.

There’s a shark at her leading ankle. Has it already passed her, and does she care?

And the figure in the 60s-style fringed jacket, possibly pointing at the male figure in the shadowy background. Is that a warning? If so, is it to her or to the mostly hidden man?

But, of course, the big question is: Is she ready?


This collage also appears at Eibhlin.com – my other art website. (“Aisling D’Art” was a pen name I adopted in the early days of the Internet, when women were in the minority, online, and some of us went to great lengths to protect our privacy and identities.)