This is not the Pieta

I'm currently rereading the biography of  sculptor and artist Michelangelo by Irving Stone. Why am I rereading it? Because it was the book I chose to put under my ailing cat Ruby's food dish, so that- you know, she didn't have to bend her neck down so far to eat. When the time came that she didn't need it anymore, why not be absorbed by reading about the life of someone other than my sad self.

This time around, I'm fascinated by the descriptions of working marble. Marble sculpture is not a medium I've given a lot of thought to, nor Michelangelo's work, though I bow to his dedication and genius. His love of stone and for working the material is so compelling. Marble has a grain like wood. To work it is to know it's structure intimately. He would assess marble when the morning sun would hit it just so, to be able to see into it's translucent mass. Imagine chipping at marble, how to find the point of entry to make it's crystal structure penetrable. Where are my chisels? Surely there's a chunk on marble lying around here someplace!

 It's gotten me thinking about white surfaces with an organic quality. And while I debate whether to try my hand at carving marble, this is abalone table and can remind me of the glowing quality of marble.