Pygmalion's Test

[Esclava]

Molded by my Pygmalion?

I don't think so. Life and all its intricacies have molded me and it will take someone intelligent enough to see that depth of character - before they can appreciate it.

I love my strong independence; fiery, passionate nature and unwillingness to compromise my beliefs to suit someone else's opinion.

If there is One out there who can see and understand who I really am, I don't believe they will want to mold me into anything else ...

I think they will want to explore what we can become together.

Esclava

 

[Private_Label]

While there are a lot of physical things about myself that would be wonderful to have changed, I think AA was talking more on the internal levels being changed.



If I were clay, the creator would find parts of me dried out and difficult to work. As much as I could desire to be entirely moldable, some parts are hard granite that does not yeild easily to the sulptor's tools. Some portions I desire to have chipped away or molded into a more pleasing shape, other portions I need to give the softer clay some framework on which to hang. If I were soft clay throughout, what challenge would there be to the sculptor?

Michelangelo took a piece of marble and did what no other sculptor would have done with it. He turned it into a proportional model of a man, a Goliath of a David, where others would have turned it into scene carved in relief. I would hope for a sculptor who would see the possibilities that others miss.


If I were the sculptor... I would say I am no good at molding and shaping. I would find myself frustrated that I could not make the clay look in reality the form I can see in my mind's eye. It would not be perfect, but in the end...
it would be mine.

 

[Sirsminx]

I would rather be sculpted, molded, created by the hands of an artist I admire, respect, love. I would want to believe he is intent to reveal the "real" me...the me I want to be, the me He wants to see me be ..because he knows I already am.

there is nothing sexier to me than a man confident, passionate, and determined and in love with what he's doing. He is the artist

 

[Recidiva]

In thinking about why I'd rather be molded it's because I'm usually very content with things as they are. I'm very Zen and "uncarved block" and trying to find the beauty in things as they are. I have to import a lot of my discontent. I'm so busy trying to cope with things exactly as they are that sometimes someone has to reach over my shoulder and make an adjustment to something and I say "OH! I never thought of that. Thank you!"

 

[CutieMouse]

Nostalgic old bump...

I'll admit I still have the [dammed] Pygmalion fetish, but it's... shifted? Matured? The hamsters are hiccuping; need to think on it a bit.

 

[BiBunny]

I think this is something he wrestles with a lot. I have my Pygmalion, the only one I'd ever let chip away at the superfluous pieces. I want to be molded. But I think he fears that if he changes me, even for the better, that I'll resent him. Or else he's simply afraid of the power he's got over me. Or both.

I don't want him to solve my various issues. That's not his job and not something I'd want to burden him with. But I really want to be everything he needs, not someone he has to be ashamed of.

 

[YourCaptor]

Once upon a time I was artistic, and I can tell you, I hate my work.

When I create I get totally involved, I know my art inside and out, and so every tiny flawed detail jumps out at me and destroys everything. While others love what I create, I just look at my work and wish I could make something that looked as good as that persons piece over there.

I wouldn't want to mold my women, I wish she could just be perfect when she gets here. Unfortunately thats not realistic.

I wish I could just skip the whole "training" part.

 

[rida]

Marble or Sculptor?

If the sculptor is someone that just uncovers the hidden potential, could not the same be said for the marble? That the marble guides the sculptor to the action of creation?

I want to be the marble that fulfill the creative potential of the sculptor.





(In reality I'm just a stubborn piece of rock. You can chip at it, you can file it, but it will always just be a piece of rock. Pretty rock, perhaps, but a rock.

In good days, I say because it is already perfect as it is
In neutral days, I say eternal potential, never to be realized.
In bad days, I say simply no creation to extract, just a smaller rock.)

 

[eastern sun]

I wrote this a few years ago -

my body, in the hands of an artist
yields like clay to the pressure of his touch
I am formed by his skill
into the vessel for his passion
and thirstily I drink
his water

as my body, like clay,
holds the shape I've been given
space opens, deep and wide
to receive him
and I watch from a distance
as he presses inside and sets me
on fire

and my body, wet and hot
in the contours of his hands
defies gravity and rises
to the sound of his voice
dancing to his words
stormy, tempestuous
gasping for air

then my body, left behind
baking in the sun will grow hard
and beautiful
glazed in his furnace
or hard
and cracked
if the form was flawed ready to be born again

as the artist who creates me
desires

**************************
That poem has been the sole "bio" on my profile in a few different sites. And I have loved the responses I've received. . . .

 

[IrisAlthea]

If given the choice to mold or be moldeded, I think my answer would depend on the other person. Some pepole I would rather mold and others I might allow to mold me.
In a close relationship, I don´t think that choice is possible though. I think both mold each other just like other strong influences in our lives, like education, work or relatives, shape us into what we are.