I have never liked statues. There's something very haunting about them. Their eyes so empty, their bodies so cold. They remind me of the only reoccurring dream I've ever had. It only happened a lot as a child and usually only while I was really sick. I'd wake up in a sweat and would cry and cry. The dream had my body in some sort of assembly line at a factory. I couldn't move and felt nothing, but watched as I came closer and closer to a machine with mechanical arms ready to put my body tightly  into small containers of all shapes and sizes. It wasn't gross, but rather highly claustrophobic. I felt trapped.

I haven't had the dream in probably thirteen years. But staring at this statue today, already confined in it's own body and now swallowed by the arms of a Banyan tree, I couldn't help but immediately feel short of breath. My chest felt tight at the thought of endless permanence. And yet, there was something beautiful about it that I still don't understand. Maybe it was all the life that surrounded something so lifeless.

1 comment:

  1. beautiful image...lovely words...so much feeling...love it.