Tour

The sun still peaking. That was its natural-self. How often used - was this grand white-tiered stone theater, curved-row out of the side of a hill ? Has there been an audience, this side of toga-white fashion ? They are preserved. They are reverenced. They are not-used. How can this history understand history-unused ? One old-lady owner, low-mileage. Been in the garage all this time. Must be seen to be appreciated. Come on-down - now !

I was a maker of statues and so I did become. How to be David ? Only one-way. You have to be the sculptor. These Italians, they had marble if-anything. No marble where I grew up, or even remotely, except for the rich, the mark of lasting nobility.

And the cemeteries. I grew to like-them starting-in Georgetown next D.C. I used to visit a favorite, on autumn-Sunday sunny-afternoons for a period; a museum missed by most. For me it was-not a cemetery. It was a Japanese See-garden, as I later would come to-know. I would see a garden, canyon-like, sitting on a bench under high canopy, broad leafy-trees, overlooking into the multitudinous stone sculpture, of the simplest flat, white square and rectangle stone, to the more up-scale neighborhoods, with great polish-colored, ornate marble megaliths. The ambiance was dead-quiet called Peace. Rest-in-peace was the motto. It was a town and city at peace. It was folk-forlorn except for the few straggler-lovers of the dead, with bright-colored flowers to be placed on grave sites. It was the tomb of the unknown statue. But they were great at what they did. And they only-did what they-did, that was best-they-could-do great - most of them. David here I am. I don't want to be like-you. You seem so full of yourself; showing-naked to the world. Where do you come-off ? I would only do that if ordered, and was with othersise-insurance.

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