Thinking of Beauty What is beauty? Is it perception, of all that is around us, is it a concept, purely theoretical, impossible to prove but generally accepted? Or is it a divine power, unconceivable in our present science. Beauty, recognized in all things, some say it is purely desire, but do I really desire hurting, war, confrontation, even death? If I were to question all my desires, would they all be beautiful? Solely to me, no, although one could always say “to each his own”. But is it purely desire? I believe it is the pleasure we find in our desires that is beauty. But then beauty is also a force, not just a feeling of emotion, for it can swallow all language with a subtle look, it challenges natures as if it were a catalyst to thy heart, it inflames the face with an embarrassing rouge. Beauty can lift us to new heights and demolish our spirits, often at the same time; it clouds all judgement serenely sweeping us away to oblivion. Then what is it? That drives me to write, slowly be drained of life blissful and contempt by beauty’s elegant embrace. All women are different no matter how many similarities there may be. Is it their eyes that pierce through the air with marvelous color shining in sapphire, emerald, amber or explosions of colour like a star burst they blast wonder and awe through our hearts? Could it be their hair, softer than any fabric, almost as if it were a sin to run such coarse and clumsy hands through a delicate river of ecstasy? The way it flies in the wind and sways from side to side reflecting light in ways diamonds could only dream of. Maybe it is even her smile that melts me inside, hidden behind lips velvety smooth and warm, like floodgates they release an incomparable wonder of thirty two gleaming white pearls. Beauty destroys the soul, it tears us limb from limb and we accept it. We are slaves to beauty for we couldn’t be happy without it, only love is our salvation from such pitiful self-torment.
-T.S.I.