Laid before me was a blank slate,
Smooth and flat, lacking all shape.
Yet I dared to envision,
Not what it was, but what it could be.
And as I looked I began to see,
A maiden, motionless and trapped,
Oh how she cried to be free.
For weeks, no months I laboured,
With chisel and hammer in hand,
Chipping away that shell of stone.
I learned of her curves and hair.
My...