A chisel and hammer stammer with the speed and clamor
of a hand driven jackhammer –
and the artist, the handler –
is precise as he is impatient,
sparring with the marble slab to carve a sacred new representation.
The stone was flown in from the doldrums over in Moldova, and
he’s crafting a goddess – so graceful, so flawless.
His hands cultivate a muted peace while fighting against time;
unfocused energy heads up his spine,
increasing his heart rate
with each imperfect puncture of the stone he molds.
As somebody once told,
it’s the work done preparing for the future that makes us old;
He make these fine cuts and chisel away.
He sculpts his dreams into the waking day. – RSM