'
*On a hand-hewn pedestal
imagination coalesced;
on milk-white face, alight
eyes sparked by a liquid flame.
Some build ivory towers,
their hands raw from driven labour,
on scratched cheeks, a stricken eye
ransoms a sculpted, orphan dream.
Across time and the Middle Sea
another calloused hand chiselled;
laughter on a pine-white face
resurrected an ailing heart.
Some can only imagine
what others have, without trying;
when vicarious journeys fail,
reality's block they will assail.*
(A sort of raison d'etre definition for the artist's creation,
drawing from both the stories of Pygmalion and Geppetto.)
__✒
○●
°
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 8:32 PM UTC
'
*On a hand-hewn pedestal
imagination coalesced;
on milk-white face, alight
eyes sparked by a liquid flame.
Some build ivory towers,
their hands raw from driven labour,
on scratched cheeks, a stricken eye
ransoms a sculpted, orphan dream.
Across time and the Middle Sea
another calloused hand chiselled;
laughter on a pine-white face
resurrected an ailing heart.
Some can only imagine
what others have, without trying;
when vicarious journeys fail,
reality's block they will assail.*
(A sort of raison d'etre definition for the artist's creation,
drawing from both the stories of Pygmalion and Geppetto.)
__✒
○●
°
Think Pinocchio, think Galateus
