MICHELANGELO DI LODOVICO BUONARROTI SIMONI
Michelangelo did not strike the marble. The mallet rested in his hand, unmoving, while behind him the voice returned – again, and again, and again.
“You wait too long. Stone does not think for you. Begin.” But he did not move. He stood before the block as though it were not stone at all, but something living – something not yet willing to reveal itself.
He was not searching for form. He was waiting for recognition. The others called it hesitation. He knew it was something else.
Because beneath the silence, something resisted him. Something whispered that he was not ready. And so he waited. Longer than he should have.