Weekly Photo Challenge: Delicate

The first thought I had about this Weekly Photo Challenge word was of Simon Schama in “The Power of Art” DVD describing Bernini’s sculpture “Ecstasy of St. Teresa”.  The delicate touch of an angel, the intense and spellbound concentration of presence, distills the vulnerability of human existence.  It is a very spiritual moment of intimacy in which the soul is liberated and comes to the surface.   Bernini illustrates it masterfully in his sculpture.  I have not photographed the sculpture, nor have I seen it, even though I have been to Rome.  The best I have to offer is this shot, taken one luxurious morning at a historic hotel in West Virginia.  Yes, those are my legs. 

delicate

15 thoughts on “Weekly Photo Challenge: Delicate

  1. Thank the lord that’s Steves hand……
    For one awful moment I thought, …..Well you know….
    (Not that there’s anything really wrong with a woman having hairy wrists…..just not my cup of tea).

    On a similar theme I recently read an interview with Canadian chanteuse Martha Wainwright, where she was extolling the virtues of hirsuteness…None of that ‘brazilian’ nonsense for Martha it seems…
    Her argument for allowing her ‘ladies garden’ to flourish was that she then wouldn’t have to see her own vagina……????
    Hasn’t she heard of pants?

    But enough of this………I’m starting to sound as if I have more than a passing interest in Miss Wainwrights wedding tackle…Heaven Forfend!

    I have seen the Bernini and you’ve got nicer ankles…..St Teresa was a bit of a bloater. :-)

  2. methinks Bernini’s angel toys with St Theresa, and her intensity & spellboundedness looks more like a swoon than concentrated presence. I’ll take a nice earthly hand on a pair of healthy legs for my soul’s liberation any day. As they say of other delicacies: de gustibus non est dispunandum.

  3. Hers might be an orgasmic swoon, an ecstasy true to the etymology of the word as an out of body trance. However, an eyes open orgasm, gaze locked on the object of her devotion, would to my mind reveal more of a concentrated presence. Discussion of the soul’s liberation, and the vulnerability of human existence, tends to bring death to mind, la grande mort rather than la petite mort. The soul, liberated to the surface and not to the ethers, wakens the senses into an alert, concentrated, maybe even orgasmically tantric intimacy that would indeed be opposite to a swoon.

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