the concept of Galatea could not have been coined by an artist. at least not a self aware one.

because no artist has ever looked at a work they made five years ago and still loved it just as deeply. they see the flaws they missed when they were younger. they improve. they're embarrassed.

what about after ten years? twenty? maybe with distance an artist could form a grudging affection. or swear to do better.

but it gets more complicated with a woman where a statue should be. a woman who changes over time so you don't have to acknowledge the flaws were given to her with a lovers hand- only that her nose is too big, and her breast is all wrong, and she must have done something to her hair because you couldn't have designed something so foolish, could you? a thousand tiny flaws you can't push into the corner and separate yourself from like you might with her sisters.

Galatea growing older dreams of elephants and stone.

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I'm tired and my grammar is over there somewhere.