#lifting stuff

one of the greatest butts of the classical world ft. german school kids.

but the thing is, no photo can do justice to this shoulder line. the statue is entirely alive, from the veins running up the bronze legs to the curved torso, to the now-blind eyes. the impression that the god (poseidon or zeus) would throw his bolt and then turn around to look you in the eye, following the arc of his motion, is perfectly complete.

just as the moment it captures is perfect. it’s that single instance where the potential of the body and the mind is brought together into one, when the bolt is not yet thrown - but the moment is pregnant with intent, and time makes an odd shift, the universe itself uncertain between the act being conceived, carried out and completed. space subjugates time.

and what’s even better, I know this moment acutely well. it is my favourite part of the deadlift, one of the most acute pleasures I felt. it is when you stand in front of the bar, looking down at it, knowing exactly how straight your back would be and where your hands will go and the strength that would be in them as you grasp the steel and meet your gaze in the mirror before filling your diaphragm with air and pushing up.

but you have not yet started moving. and it is just a fraction of a second, the fluid fragment of time when the potential energy is translated into kinetic one. you cannot drag it out or make it last, for it is as alive as you are.

it is divinity.