The Perfect Form

I saw the David today. Again, photography is both prohibited and superfluous, he must be experienced.

I deliberately chose to view David last in the small museum where he lives. As I entered the long hall I delayed looking at him for a few moments, to clear my mind and breath in the anticipation of what I knew would be a moment to remember for all of my days. I wanted to savor the experience and to take this mental image as the last of my trip.

There and so many details you don't see in pictures of David ... the veins in his arms and hands, the squiggly little tufts of hair in his sideburns, the way the sling wraps all the way around his body, the stone concealed in his hand, the perfect lines and curves in his muscles, his foreskin, his eyebrows, his elegant fingers, his cute little navel and his pensive, faraway gaze.



(This photo is from Wikipedia.)

A fit male body is a thing of beauty. And I don't think Michelangelo was as much a fan of biblical myth as he was a connoisseur of the male form. David is exquisite.

I wonder if the model was a real man, one whom Michelangelo admired, loved or perhaps even worshiped. Or maybe David represents an ideal, the artist taking the best features of many men to create the perfect man. One thing is clear from his years of labor and the pinnacle of art David represents, this was a work of devotion. Michelangelo adored David. It reminds me what love feels like.