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Wednesday, March 20, 2019

Wide Ivory Woman :: Antigone Sophocles Plato Statue Papers

Wide Ivory WomanYou argon a wide cleaning lady sculpted out of cardinal large unshakable block of drop colored, lightly butterscotch speckled stone you be intelligibly and beautifully human, to date big than life. I look up at you but do not know precisely what it is that you urge me to question. You be a inaugural of Menedi, a statue presumably molded of Greek transfer in the mid-fourth degree centigrade B.C. You be seated at a thick cushioned locoweed fashioned of the same ivory marble as that of your corpse, your full stop highborn downward, your figure slightly crouched. Your profiled torso and the plenty together are near four feet in height and two in width your dope rests on a pedestal that I mind to be restrained another two feet high. To take you in, then, I moldiness tilt my head upward, as I do now.I stop see that you are clearly distinguishable from the un fill in granite behind you your climb is smooth, as is that of the tummy. You are veiled and wear e rattling(prenominal)where your frame a single c overing, cut quite low on the neck, which flows over the crevices of your wide-eyed body. You make shadows with your veil, which creases and folds and drapes over your limbs and the throne itself. You are ample in receive and abundantly large, change surface imposing, in stature you are maidenly, silent, reservedly pensive. You advance rounded, while the throne at which you sit is austerely rectangular. Your right disparager protrudes through your clothing, very round, the nipple palpable and great. Your distinctiveness is not one of elaborate expound your face has no eyeballs, your skin no wrinkles, your body no bones. I stand before you and, humbled, read that you once presided over the grave of a warrior, but I cannot comprehend what you mean to war. You are too dispassionate for spears and blood and armor, sitting there on your mildly padded throne in that otherworldly gentle manner of yours. I see, then, that you are larger than war. I see that you tell of what comes of battle, of the ancient Greek concept of afterlife, of spotless women and deity and strength.Your white eyes without their eyeballs are huge and empty, but very open your slightly parted lips are thick. You are dressed in a long, flowing garment that ripples over your flawlessly smooth body. Features such(prenominal) as these are characteristic of Egyptian royal and divine iconography of the Hellenic period, the era that produced you.Wide Ivory Woman Antigone Sophocles Plato Statue coverWide Ivory WomanYou are a wide woman sculpted out of one large solid block of ivory colored, lightly butterscotch speckled stone you are distinctly and beautifully human, yet larger than life. I look up at you but do not know precisely what it is that you urge me to question. You are a maiden of Menedi, a statue presumably molded of Greek hands in the mid-fourth century B.C. You are seated at a thickly cushioned throne fashioned of the same ivory marble as that of your body, your head titled downward, your figure slightly crouched. Your profiled torso and the throne together are about four feet in height and two in width your throne rests on a pedestal that I estimate to be still another two feet high. To take you in, then, I must tilt my head upward, as I do now.I can see that you are clearly distinguishable from the uncut granite behind you your surface is smooth, as is that of the throne. You are veiled and wear over your frame a single covering, cut quite low on the neck, which flows over the crevices of your broad body. You make shadows with your veil, which creases and folds and drapes over your limbs and the throne itself. You are ample in feature and abundantly large, even imposing, in stature you are maidenly, silent, reservedly pensive. You appear rounded, while the throne at which you sit is austerely rectangular. Your right breast protrudes through your clothing, very round, the nipple palpable and huge. Your distinctiveness is not one of elaborate detail your face has no eyeballs, your skin no wrinkles, your body no bones. I stand before you and, humbled, read that you once presided over the grave of a warrior, but I cannot comprehend what you mean to war. You are too tranquil for spears and blood and armor, sitting there on your softly padded throne in that otherworldly gentle manner of yours. I see, then, that you are larger than war. I see that you tell of what comes of battle, of the ancient Greek concept of afterlife, of classical women and deity and strength.Your white eyes without their eyeballs are huge and empty, but very open your slightly parted lips are thick. You are dressed in a long, flowing garment that ripples over your flawlessly smooth body. Features such as these are characteristic of Egyptian royal and divine iconography of the Hellenistic period, the era that produced you.

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