Elena Silverman
Stories (1/0)
Masterpieces
I can’t stop thinking about masterpieces. I remember slowly approaching Michaelangelo’s David in Florence. As I walked, I saw massive blocks of marble with unfinished sculptures of men seeming to climb out of them. These almost-sculptures lined the walls of the hallway that led to the circular room housing one of the greatest, if not the most revered, sculpture of all time. I looked up to see David, bathed in light from the windowed dome above, ethereal and magnificent. Every curve, every edge was unspeakably beautiful. His hands were strong and sturdy. His eyes were knowing and brooding. His stance was powerful and confident. Looking back on this moment in my life, I wish I had thought more. I wish I had known more. I was just a young girl with dark hair in a mauve dress, flitting through life with a childlike lack of awareness. I was more concerned with my own beauty than that of the world around me. If I could go back at this point in my life, I would sit with David for hours. I would draw him, trying to capture my own perspective. I would write about him as I am now.
By Elena Silverman6 years ago in Wander