The Ever Metaphor of Beauty





What is beauty?

Some say it is in the eye of the beholder, or in other words, it is something that we all seem to find our own unique definition. We look for it, as if it is something that can be seen. But maybe, just maybe, we can only see it when we feel it. Like love. Or something like that, whatever that is. It is a sense of worth, a sense of living, a sense of meaning in a world full of confusion, a society full of puzzles, a world full of unknowns. Beauty, like love, should be known. And there it goes, because we question it, we lose the true meaning of what it should be, what it is. Or of what it isn’t.

Beauty is the confusion in my words, in my head & thoughts.

Beauty is distortion.

Beauty is not-knowing.

Beauty is hope.

Beauty is finding comfort in the little things, like breath, the smell of wisteria by the garbage can, cookies.

Beauty is joy, a smile from a stranger, a gentle touch from someone special, an uncontrollable giggle.

Beauty is the smell of puppy feet, a slobbery kiss, a furry cuddle.

Beauty is a song that brings back memories, a melody that gets stuck in your head.

Beauty is dancing, even if you can’t keep the beat.

Beauty is silence.

Beauty is color, dreams, whimsical creativity.

Beauty is art, wild brush strokes, trails of glitter.

Beauty is butterflies in your belly.

Beauty is love.

Beauty is a sunrise, a sunset, a shooting star, foggy morning, a thunderstorm.

Beauty is finding shapes in the clouds.

Beauty is feeling the mist against your face, a gentle breeze in your hair, catching snowflakes on your tongue.

Beauty is falling down. And getting back up.

Beauty is a word and so much more.

Beauty cannot always be seen, but is always there.

Beauty is a hug that lingers.

Beauty is not always pretty.

Beauty is magic.

Beauty is the story of the crooked tree growing through the fence, the scuff marks on the wooden floor, the rings on the bar table.

Beauty is perfect imperfection…. or imperfect perfection. It is contradiction.

Beauty is the first smell of spring & the last leaf that falls in autumn.

Beauty is large white chocolate mocha with a squirt of whipped cream on top.

Beauty is swirling.

Beauty is kindness. Beauty is sweet. But can also be bitter.

Beauty is innocence & mischief.

Beauty is a teardrop.

Beauty is forgiving.

Beauty is accepting & embracing.

Beauty is. It just is.


Pretty dresses, high school memories, & Jerry Maguire moments

Oxford commas & ampersands… do you still double space after a period? Personally, I love my typewriter & would use it more if the ribbon weren’t so hard to change. I would also sew more if I owned a sewing machine…

I should start knitting… and I need to paint more. I have reached a pivotal moment in my life where I feel like I have potential to do something, or many things. Yet, I find myself hiding.

I watched the Oscars last night & found myself star struck. Until I realized that a high school classmate was in the movie that won the Oscar for movie of the year. And I remember one pivotal moment in high school that meant something. It was an aHa moment… and not many of those happened for me in high school.

It was the first day of classes. I think I was a freshman, although it doesn’t really matter. Psychology class with Ms. Burris. I find a seat on the right side of the classroom, as it was split down the middle… half of the desks on one side by the windows, the other half on the left by the wall. Ah, and that was the year of the OJ Simpson trial…. we watched the verdict on the television in that class. But I digress.

The bell rang & we were all seated, awaiting the first instruction for introductions and those silly things we still do on the first day of classes. The first words out of Ms. Burris’s mouth were, “Oh no, this isn’t going to work. Look at how you are all sitting.” We had naturally segregated ourselves, without even being consciously aware of it. All of the black kids were on the left side of the classroom and the white kids were on the right… except for one. Chris was on the right side of the classroom. He integrated himself, he was confident, charismatic, and beautiful. He was that guy that would go on to be a movie star. Of course he would. The fish that fought against the current.

And so it goes. Jerry Maguire moments. Giving up the comforts of what we know and see to be normal, to break out into random song and dance. Critical mass. Perhaps I have reached my own critical mass.

I long to be released by the suffocating world that I have created within my mind. Fairytales and unicorns. How do you diagnose a unicorn? I know that I have so much more to offer… the world? Maybe not… but myself, absolutely. Maybe Matthew Machaunahayahay was on to something when he said that he is constantly chasing himself. The person that he could be…. constantly striving for better. Searching for that metaphorical hero within. How do you search for a unicorn?DSC_0009

But isn’t it pointless to chase something that has been alive within me all along? I can find it by simply sitting still. And watching the world go by in all of their pretty dresses.