In 1820 on the Aegean island of Milos amongst ancients city ruins a peasant farmer named Yorgos Kentrotos found buried in the ground the famous statue of Venus de Milo. He was digging for stones to perhaps build a wall with. I wonder how many time he hit her head with his shovel before he realized she was a Goddess. Maybe this is why her ponytail was broken off. This would be Yorgos's claim to fame unearthing the Greek Goddess of Love. Little did he know, the tumultuous fights she would ensue. A regular fem fatale, honestly she's just a rock that was carved into a Goddess. Rock or not, she has claimed and ensnared many macho egos'. Like bad relationships she left a trail of wounded men in her path. Men and their intellectual muscles, fought over her destiny and the significance of her history and providence. Exercising all kinds of liberties the French conjured up her beginnings to suit their fancies. A 'greater' sculpture the Medici Venus would be rightfully returned to it's home in Italy after being luted by Napoleon's men. Venus de Milo would take it's place. She was destined to fill some big shoes, too bad she only has one foot.
She stands a commanding 6'8" tall, her home now resides in the not so shabby Louvre in Paris France. This is where I would love to see and compare the venus' of our day- a group of seriously tall female basket ball players standing next to her. Years ago while trying on clothes at JC Penney I heard a bunch of women joking around outside my dressing room. When I open the door there was a whole group of really tall women like over 6 feet tall. It turns out they were all part of the College basketball team at NIU. Talk about feeling short I am only 5'1''. Diminutive, she is not Venus is almost larger then life maybe that's why she is so powerful her shear size is commanding there's no denying that if she were alive she could beat the crap out of just about anyone.
I can't imagine why something that once was so elegant, fair and beautiful could be discarded and buried deep in the ground. I am sure there are those who have their theories could tell you why, landslide, earth quake , but in reality she is shrouded in mystery. Like so many other antiquities it's the questions left unanswered that make them so alluring. I once got a fortune from a fortune cookie that said " A beautiful face is a silent commendation. " A crinkled up iddy bitty piece of paper has made this lasting impression on me. When you stop to really think about it- that would be the look of satisfaction, something like the way a bride looks on her wedding day with her lover and all her loved ones around, hopefully perfectly content. There's a knowing all is good with your immediate bubble and surroundings. It's a beautiful thing to be enriched enough to desire the act of commending, then on the other hand how grand to be on the receiving end to be the one who is commended. On a subconscience level this is what's going on with us the crowd the viewers when we are in the presence of Venus. We are gazing into a beautiful face which is the silent commendation. What a priceless package indeed.
At one time Venus was tinted in life like colors and wore jewelry that was the fashion to make her seem even more real. Now she has been mass produced into little souvenirs in countless shapes and sizes.
Her image is iconic. I've always liked her personally because she seems comfortable in her own stone skin. She's a Goddess, you want to like her and look up to her. She was lovingly formed by hand in marble. She gazes through you and beyond, there is sense of humility and pride that you get while looking at her. Even in her extruded 20th century tschotske resin state here, there is grace and poise it's easy to ponder her greatness.
She is a sage and has the timeless it factor. It also helps that there are countless documents that lead up to her paradoxical demise. Out of the ground she was re-born again. All of this is the stuff of romance, lust, greed and ultimately the clash of egos verses vulnerability. Isn't that after all what love is about? She makes me think about being a women. Twisted and broken she remains powerful and mighty, it's ashame she has no arms. I am told and have essentially heard through the tainted grape vine there were arms near her when she was found but they mysteriously went missing, one arm held a apple. How provocative, I along with so many others want to make art about her,
I want her to hold an apple once again.
She stands a commanding 6'8" tall, her home now resides in the not so shabby Louvre in Paris France. This is where I would love to see and compare the venus' of our day- a group of seriously tall female basket ball players standing next to her. Years ago while trying on clothes at JC Penney I heard a bunch of women joking around outside my dressing room. When I open the door there was a whole group of really tall women like over 6 feet tall. It turns out they were all part of the College basketball team at NIU. Talk about feeling short I am only 5'1''. Diminutive, she is not Venus is almost larger then life maybe that's why she is so powerful her shear size is commanding there's no denying that if she were alive she could beat the crap out of just about anyone.
I can't imagine why something that once was so elegant, fair and beautiful could be discarded and buried deep in the ground. I am sure there are those who have their theories could tell you why, landslide, earth quake , but in reality she is shrouded in mystery. Like so many other antiquities it's the questions left unanswered that make them so alluring. I once got a fortune from a fortune cookie that said " A beautiful face is a silent commendation. " A crinkled up iddy bitty piece of paper has made this lasting impression on me. When you stop to really think about it- that would be the look of satisfaction, something like the way a bride looks on her wedding day with her lover and all her loved ones around, hopefully perfectly content. There's a knowing all is good with your immediate bubble and surroundings. It's a beautiful thing to be enriched enough to desire the act of commending, then on the other hand how grand to be on the receiving end to be the one who is commended. On a subconscience level this is what's going on with us the crowd the viewers when we are in the presence of Venus. We are gazing into a beautiful face which is the silent commendation. What a priceless package indeed.
At one time Venus was tinted in life like colors and wore jewelry that was the fashion to make her seem even more real. Now she has been mass produced into little souvenirs in countless shapes and sizes.
Her image is iconic. I've always liked her personally because she seems comfortable in her own stone skin. She's a Goddess, you want to like her and look up to her. She was lovingly formed by hand in marble. She gazes through you and beyond, there is sense of humility and pride that you get while looking at her. Even in her extruded 20th century tschotske resin state here, there is grace and poise it's easy to ponder her greatness.
She is a sage and has the timeless it factor. It also helps that there are countless documents that lead up to her paradoxical demise. Out of the ground she was re-born again. All of this is the stuff of romance, lust, greed and ultimately the clash of egos verses vulnerability. Isn't that after all what love is about? She makes me think about being a women. Twisted and broken she remains powerful and mighty, it's ashame she has no arms. I am told and have essentially heard through the tainted grape vine there were arms near her when she was found but they mysteriously went missing, one arm held a apple. How provocative, I along with so many others want to make art about her,
I want her to hold an apple once again.
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