The woman sits upright in her chair
with her feet outstretched before her on a footstool. She does not have lights
to shine on her. On top of her flowing folded dress, she wraps a veil over her
head and across her shoulders and arms. Her left hand holds the opposite side
of her waist, clutching herself. With her right hand, she brings the veil up to
her face in modesty.
Many pass by her without a second
glance. They stand in line to see her beautiful neighbor, the one who is so
beautiful that she must have mirrors so that she can admire herself. But no one
looks at her, no one even knows her name. She does not get the attention of her
naked neighbor, but she also does not want to sacrifice her modesty for fame.
She sits there, knowing she will never be as beautiful as the goddess. Her face
shows that she has a mind, one with deep thoughts. But when pretty women are
admired and your mind cannot be heard, what else is there to do but hide. She
now does not worry about not being seen but worries that someone will notice
her. How can she compare to her beautiful neighbor?
Perhaps if she could cover herself,
no one would see her. All that is exposed beyond the cloth are her feet and her face, showing
the beginnings of her hair. She is a bland color of tan, almost
blending into the wall behind, falling into the shadow she creates. Her anxiety is written on her face. She raises her
eyebrows with a slight frown. With her covered hand to her chin, she sits in worry. She holds herself tight and hopes that her veil is long enough and that the
walls will take her in.
(Capitoline Museum, 5/26/19, Seated Female Statue, Imperial age)
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