Florence, Italy

There is a man in Florence that the drive and heat make the trip completely worth it.   His name is David.  

Standing 13 feet tall, made of white marble, appearing pensive and relaxed, he gazes over his left shoulder and evaluates his next move. He is beautiful. 

I remember studying David and the methods Michelangelo applied to understand the human form.  Late nights in a morgue disecting bodies and lacking sleep to create a figure out of a rock is dedication.  That is passion.  

I, along with all there, caressed the statue with my eyes and tried to fathom the process.  Small chissels for the detials, medium ones for the spaces between the toes, wet marble grit to wash and smooth the surface.  All 13 feet of it.  Unbelievable.  But when you are dedicated to your passion that is what you do, is it not? Late nights make no difference, food is menial, interruptions are like gnats on a hot day - you simply brush them off.  You are happy although by most you look pained.  If you are away, you rush to return to your space because  your joy awaits and, like a jealous lover, you must pamper and feed it in order to appease your heart and the bond you've created.  That is passion. You breathe it. You eat it. You see it in everything.  You feel it.  And most of all, you live it.  That is David.  The embodiment, in all its perfection, of Michelangelo's passion.  

The interesting thing about  viewing David is that even the men find him beautiful. Granted, one can't help but wonder why there was an injustice to his nether regions.  Some in the group believe that maybe the model was a young boy, not quite a man.   But then again,  the build is that of a man in his mid to late 20s not a pre-pubescent boy.  And while the debate even shifted to circumcised or not, the consensus remained the same, it is a beautiful piece.