THE PUPPET THAT LOST ITS STRINGS.

THE PUPPET THAT LOST ITS STRINGS.

The frazzled puppet had once been a noted performing “Jack in the box”. Unfortunanately she was wired with toxic batteries from the outset. When she wasn't a waxed Jack, she was a marionette if she wasn't controlled by a string it was a stick. She had no say or control. Doomed by the actions of her unscrupulous operators. They decided what she would be on any given day.

She was manipulated and forced to smile for everyone, even though they had not yet been introduced. This was confusing to her, her mind was utter chaoss.

Her audience adored her. They accepted her as she was and how outrageous she was. The knew she had to do and say thingsno human ever would or could. They applauded her for it. She was in their minds -a star. Ultimately, the operators, snatched her soul- bravo to them.

As in all tales like this, it was a cold winters day – typical.
Our puppet sat slumped in her dishevelled attic, her miniature party hat limp on her wiry mane. Her giant wish list that she cherished through all her dreaming days, lay crumpled and coiled around her. Below her patent slippers, now torn and dull, was her majestic blue birthday cake topped with a wepping cream candle. In hes distress her wish was to blow herself out, and she did.

Her co-star and friend, the clown, had to identify her cold litle frame. He broke down and sobbed, his mask slowly melting and puddling around him. There is no mistery now, why clowns cry.

Sadly she reposes in the Shadow Puppet Theatre -a thetare no puppet dares to mention. Albeit, in pride of place but now destroyed and dysfunctional, a shadow of her former self, among less important performers.

Photographed : Lucia De Nile.
Models : Sarah Brownlee & Jack Olohan.
Written, Directed & Styled : Jennifer O'brien.
Special thanks : The Abbey Theatre, The Lambert Puppet Theatre & Shadows Puppet Theatre.