Florence

December 3, 2007

Standing in front of the statue of David, I thought of him. He was David. His body, chiseled. His eyes searching and contemplative. His hands steady, knowing the path he would take. Wondering if he had the strength to do it.

Michelangelo once said, “In every block of marble I see a statue as plain as though it stood before me, shaped and perfect in attitude and action. I have only to hew away the rough walls that imprison the lovely apparition to reveal it to the other eyes as mine see it."

Perhaps we all deserve a moment with a Michelangelo. A person who makes us perfect in attitude and action. Who, without even trying, sees our greatest potential. Who gently and beautifully shapes us into the soul we long to be.

He did that for me. In one touch, my soul took a breathe for the first time. He handed me the world. Gave me life. Like, Frankenstein, I was created. Yet, instead of creating a monster, he created a woman. A woman.

Is there anything more beautiful than a woman who has no excuse for living? Who is just there, listening. It is all about listening isn’t it? Hearing the beautiful rhythm of the world. Looking at the past with its complexities and heart ache, seeing the present as the sublime majesty it is and walking the path until it subtly becomes the future. Your eyes always steadily resting on the horizon.