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Living Art

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One day, your favorite piece of art — a famous painting or sculpture, the graffiti next door — comes to life. What happens next?

Michelangelo_Petersdom_Pieta

Nobody moves. Silence. Tears fall down my cheeks. I’m deeply touched.

There is no solace for a mother who has lost his Son. And in that horrible way. I can’t say a word. She is caressing his lifeless body with intense love. Her heart broken.

At least He is not suffering any more. He gave everything. Till the last drop of blood. Now everything has ended. She’s crying silently over His dead body resting on her lap.

I would like to be able to comfort her. But nobody can. I only watch from a prudent distance and wait in case she needs some help. I have to respect this last moment of mother and son before the burial.

I don’t dare to interrupt

Nobody moves. Silence. Tears.

 

Living Art.

Posted by

Journalist. In my fifties. I've worked for 26 years in a newspaper in Spain. I worked for two years as a stringer and correspondent in the US, and went as a special envoy to other places like the Balkans. Sea lover. Avid reader. Classic Music enthusiast.

2 Comments Join the Conversation

  1. Pingback: I stood… Now I move | Mayur Wadhwani's Blog

  2. Pingback: Life And Art | Mayur Wadhwani's Blog

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