Post by orchidsdesigns on Oct 10, 2014 2:27:00 GMT -8
Artist Name - Jayne Mateljan Company Name - Meraki Dolls
Website - under construction Other web presences: flickr / etsy
Author bio or company statement - Meraki is a Greek word which means Doing something with soul, creativity or love. It's when you put something of yourself into what you're doing.
History of the company - Originally creating under the name of Waifs, Jayne hand-crafted her own artist bears and animals based upon her own unique patterns and free form sewing. After finding Japanese BJD artists in the early 2000's, her passion was re-affirmed when she found Marina's dolls in 2006 and began working on her own line of dolls. Her first two fully costumed porcelain BJD each won first place in their categories at their public debit in 2012, showcased at the Central Coast Doll and Bear Show, NSW, Australia.
Doll Lines & Sculpts - to be further detailed.
Measurements - The Madam (OOAK) sculpt = 31cm tall, 13 poa, costumed white porcelain with permanent china-paint body adornments and added jewellery accents.
Post by orchidsdesigns on Oct 10, 2014 2:32:34 GMT -8
The Madam - OOAK porcelain costumed BJD by Meraki Dolls
Extravagantly costumed in a permanent gown and matching leggings, with a removable fully lined velveteen cloak, complete with working clasps, embellished chains and belts. Her styled hair (finest Suri Alpaca) features a permanent head-dress with tiny adorned pins and jewelled accents. Her makeup and jewellery is permanent fired China paint. The Madam comes complete with her decadent couch, tasselled cushions and an assortment of her tiny perfume vials. Each aspect to this exquisite costumed doll has been hand crafted and finished to perfection by master doll maker and artisan Jayne Mateljan of Meraki Dolls.
The Madam - Backstory written by Monika Viktoria of Orchid's Designs
Reclined on a priceless patterned silken couch (a special gift from the former Sultan himself) the Madam peers up from her reverie to survey her decadent receiving parlour; her private office to discuss meetings and book appointments for her dangerous and wealthy clients, to entertain and delight them with her small, but highly exclusive brood of girls.
The powerful scent of poppy fumes and hundreds of indistinguishably scented candles heavily cloud the air. Thin trails of smoke from incense burners dotted around the room dance and writhe snakelike in the air. Soft chatter, an occasional stifled giggle and barely audible moaning escapes from the various enclaves hidden by thick velvet curtains dripping with tassels and eastern embroidery, golden threads glinting in the flickering candlelight. The floor is no longer visible, every corner of the dim room filled with expensive rugs and silken cushions neatly arranged into little groups. A majestic portrait graces the wall behind the main dais, the thick golden frame carved intricately with forbidden fruits and rare tropical flowers, lovers hidden amongst ferns and palms, glimpses of ferocious mythological beasts intertwined with masterful scrollwork. The majestic portrait is unmistakably of the Madam herself, porcelain white skin framed by ebony locks piled high on her head, extravagant pins and combs holding the midnight trestles defiantly in place. Arched brows painted high on her forehead, as was in vogue in the courts of emperors, lips rouged like bruised plums in her signature quivering sneer-like pout. Her slanted eyes pierce through even the boldest of brazen visitors, quelling arguments or disagreements, installing her absolute power here.
Low gilded tables, small shelves and a few heavy wooden chests contain an assortment of miniature glass vials and crystal vessels, gleaming in the dim light. They contain an array of perfumes and specially mixed scents, to enrich the sensory experience of visitors to her establishment, and she plucks one of the tiny glass vials now from her collection, peering through the multicoloured glass at the oily contents swirling within. Her heavily jewelled fingers delicately remove the crystal stopper, golden rings weighed down with swelling jewels clinking together like tiny bells. She has been expecting a new girl to enter into service, rumoured to be a delicate flower, an unsurpassed beauty. The tiny glass vial now freed from it’s topper emits no scent at first, then slowly, unobtrusively, a fragile glimpse of innocence and purity escapes, reminiscent of early lilies and untouched blossoms. She returns the stopper to the vial, and in the quiet and near dark a tiny smile hints at those bruised plums, as the lingering scent from the vial slowly, just as unobtrusively, reveals a deeper, stronger undertone, heavy with musk and dark fruits.