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| “If
what you are doing is according to the rules, how come it is not
allowed to display sculptures in Israel?” “That is a true statement, but it holds true only for realistic sculpture. If you glance around the room, you will not find one realistic sculpture I have made. This is precisely because I am not trying to be the creator. I am only trying to gain a better understanding of him. Here, raise your head, have a look.” I raise my head, and then straighten my slightly numb legs. I walk around to the shelves Herman points to. I notice that one piece has a blank face. Another has no legs. Another has a large ear placed in the middle of the woman’s stomach. “You see, I purposely injure or alter each piece so people will not doubt my intentions. I do this so I will not confuse my intentions. I am not a creator. I am merely a student. I am celebrating the creations of God, not copying them.” Herman holds out his hand and gestures me to return to the pose. I obey. With my breath at my feet I respond, “Well, the sculpture of me you are working on seems very realistic. Not only does it have all my body parts, but it looks exactly like me.” “Do not jump to conclusions, my dear. I am not done with this piece yet.” I hear Herman stepping away from the piece and walking towards his tools at the corner of the room. He mumbles the word “Kether” repeatedly. It is as if he is chanting a mantra, a word of some spiritual power. I hear the sound of metal tools touching each other. It is the same sound that people make when they are washing silverware in a sink, but without the sound of water. I decide I will not accept his retreat to his tools. I will draw him back to me with stinging words. I speak loudly: “You know, Herman, I have been thinking about the growing relationship between us, and I think you see it through warped lenses. I am not your student. I am a paid model posing for a sculpture. If you |
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