A hand of Rodin, at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. I would give anything to have watched Rodin draw and sculpt. Every drawing, every sculpture feels alive and ready to walk away, or sit, or make love, or roll up into a ball, or crawl. It doesn’t matter. It’s alive, and I feel the energy. This hand also reminds me of a poem by T.S. Eliot with a hand crawling across the ocean floor.
Thank you, both, Rodin and Eliot.
a claw. isnt it a claw? or a pair of claws? love that poem and love this drawing.
Yes, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. “I should have been a pair of ragged claws/ Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.” The imagery always stuck with me. I always see a hand running across the ocean bottom. But I think it’s the “silent seas” combined with that that freaks me out!
And thank you!