Wiping the sweat from his brow, the sculptor stepped back
Exhausted but triumphant, the artist surveyed his masterpiece with pride.
It was four o’clock in the morning, but he just had to share his joy.
The master woke one of his students. Slowly, the young man’s bleary eyes focused.
“Why - this is wonderful, Master! Those hands.. I have never seen such beauty!”
The old artist said nothing. He went to get another student.
Again the reaction was nearly identical.
“Oh, Master.. Those hands - it is as God Himself have made them come to life!”
Once more the wizened artist went to drag another bewildered apprentice out of bed.
“Those hands.. If you do nothing else, those hands will make you immortal, Master!”
Something snapped in the gray bearded sculptor. With despair he grabbed a fearsome axe.
With horror his students tried to restrain him. Whatever drove the Master was too much.
One blow was enough to chop off those magnificent hands.
“Fools!” cried Rodin. “..these hands with a life of their own.. do not belong.
Remember this well - no part is more important than the whole!”