My* drawings and photographs are made by puppets. Art, literature and puppets are well enmeshed, but examples of artists who defer to puppet-practitioners or are assimilated by puppets are far less common. Exceptions include cinematic and literary horror/science fiction characters; the clever tick-tock drawing automata built by Pierre Jaquet-Droz, Henri Maillardet and John Nevil Maskelyne; and the drawing machines of Jean Tinguely, Desmond Paul Henry, Cameron Robbins and other contemporary artists and tinkerers. In these cases, however, artists’ utopian, dystopian and whimsical pursuits are primarily contextualised by magic and technology. The more typical puppet/human confections in the visual arts are held in thrall of puppet theatre. The shadow puppets of Kara Walker and William Kentridge, David Shrigley’s misshapen animatronic models and Paula Rego’s studio puppets all fit within this rubric. Puppets, dolls and mannequins also converge in the works of Sophie Taeuber-Arp, Giorgio DeChirico, Hans Bellmer, Nathalie Djurberg, Sarah Lucas and Paul McCarthy, often to disrupt academic conventions and damn reactionary politics, but they remain ensconced in theatrical, filmic and sculptural realms. Adam Geczy summarises artists’ abiding puppet preoccupations in an analysis of Rilke in which he describes puppets as ‘a kind of pure corporeality in which the quandary of masks and appearances is resolved.’11 Certainly, a model of ‘pure corporeality’ is seductive, but even more seductive is handing over to ‘pure corporeality’ a camera, a sharp chisel or a stick of charcoal. Whether or not they ought to be given such tools is less apparent.