A Proud Mother Watches

This is a bust of Abraham Lincoln crafted by George Gray Barnard, a famous sculptor from Kankakee County.

According to my mother, I look into the stone eyes of the first man, besides my father, who ever held me, and my son is sculpting his face.  I was just a baby when I was in a former president’s arms of course, but this is a man who made a real difference in the lives of millions of people.  I consider myself lucky, but all he did was cradle me, maybe bob me up and down and perhaps kissed me on the head.  But that was all.  I must have looked up into his face but I do not remember.  My mother does and my father does, but I do not.  Now it is like I am seeing him in person again. 

      My son on the other hand has never seen him before, and yet he sculpts every intricate detail of Lincoln’s face. From a small-town boy interested in taxidermy, to a full-fledged artist capable of turning dusty rock to life-like human beings.  The world is watching as the Pathé Review films him sculpting the great president, from a memory he might not even know I had.  It is too late for me to tell him about it how, or to at least remind him.  It has been a few years since my death but a good few for my son as fame has only rewarded him once again.

      The camera shone and the lights glistened on his face as he sweats for all the toil of crafting a simple face.  Yet it is a face cracked and cut by time, soon to be rendered offensive or tasteless by his peers.  But it is an accurate representation of the president’s humble and human beginnings.  His arms push the tools back and forth along the stone.  I do no know how he came to be so talented or how his inspirations are taken to such heights.  He said his visions came to life in little snippets and then grew into their statues, much like the small models he starts with that are unpolished and underdone and then suddenly they grow up into themselves and then they never move.

      These film makers did not publish much to the screens or to the tape but it was enough, short on time I suppose.  It was more than enough.  I do not know how it works, but it is more than enough.  I did not even know if I liked how much they showed.  I do not know if he does.  The film crew, that is.  What do they know about how long it takes for him to sculpt his statues? 

      The film ended up only being about two minutes long when it aired.  I could not tell if it was disappointed, being that his work takes days, not two minutes.  Then again, there are no pictures that are days and days and days on end.  Whatever the case, I am most proud of him. There are plenty of different sculptors they could have focused on but they chose my son and his statuary.  He deserves it, the Lord knows he does and I get to watch him from where I sit forevermore, hoping it will be a long and toiling time until he finally lays down his tools.  And then never moves.