Freewrite 2/22/07: To capture a soul
It is said that Myron captured the soul of man and beast. It is said he did this by creating a likeness that went beyond mere imitation of the form.
The heifer was bronze, no hair covered her body, no calf suckled at her udders. Her flesh did not yield to the touch, her eyes didn't blink, her heart didn't beat, she didn't breath or move or mew. Yet this cow is said to be "life-like", it is said she was mistaken for a real cow because her representation was real, her eyelashes carefully constructed, her muscles flex and relaxing in different places.
In the dark and when the rain came, with lightening and wind and the confusion of movement, perhaps then it seemed real, perhaps there were galaxies spiraling in her eyes and black holes drawing in the observer and stretching him in half until he broke and then breaking each half into halves and those halves into more halves as if the process could go on for an infinity.
Perhaps as the light played over her body, she blinked slowly in the rain at the people who stopped to wonder at her wonderful imitation of life, staring out at them, observing their movement of feet moving, their hesitation and pauses that, in a flash of light, seem to suspend movement indefinitely.
She blinked slowly in the rain, drawing everything in with her eyes.
The heifer was bronze, no hair covered her body, no calf suckled at her udders. Her flesh did not yield to the touch, her eyes didn't blink, her heart didn't beat, she didn't breath or move or mew. Yet this cow is said to be "life-like", it is said she was mistaken for a real cow because her representation was real, her eyelashes carefully constructed, her muscles flex and relaxing in different places.
In the dark and when the rain came, with lightening and wind and the confusion of movement, perhaps then it seemed real, perhaps there were galaxies spiraling in her eyes and black holes drawing in the observer and stretching him in half until he broke and then breaking each half into halves and those halves into more halves as if the process could go on for an infinity.
Perhaps as the light played over her body, she blinked slowly in the rain at the people who stopped to wonder at her wonderful imitation of life, staring out at them, observing their movement of feet moving, their hesitation and pauses that, in a flash of light, seem to suspend movement indefinitely.
She blinked slowly in the rain, drawing everything in with her eyes.
posted by InkSpot | 2:32 AM
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