There's something beautiful about the truth, whether it is seen through expression or words or actions, it is an idea or a group of ideas that is completely and entirely uncovered. We have a hard time seeing things for what they are, because in reality our minds convert the truth into something unrealistic, something sugar coated. Looking at life from a rose colored glass allows us to see only the things that are not too painful to accept, those things that are easily resolved. So in the end, is the truth what we really want?
I just came back from Paris, the most beautiful city i've ever seen in my entire life. Not only did the beauty of the antique fragility all around me amaze me, but the aura of quiescence that was so effortlessly created made me really think about the concepts at hand here. These people, these artists displayed in these incredible museums had a totally different perception of beauty then what is accepted by society today. All of those women in the paintings that were idolized and really seen as beautiful and perfect creatures, were actually not perfect at all. The delicate purity that radiated from the pale skin tonees of the women, bare in flesh. The roundness of their curvature, the simple look they have in their eyes. These women were not extremely thin, nor tan, nor did they have perfect facial features. They were true, natural, naked and rosy, and yet as sure of themselves as anyone can be. I couldn't believe the sensuality captured in such an ephemeral moment, just a glipse of the artist's eye that inspired him to paint this very one single moment.
Right then, looking at Claude Monet's impressionist paining "Chloe", I realized that beauty, real beauty comes from truth. A bareness that should be so deeply appreciated whether it be physical or not.
Time's have changed, our perseption of what is beautiful is completely different. People feel the need to change everything about themselves to be beautiful. Who ever said that thin was pretty? Who ever said that perfection came from exactness? I find that the most beautiful things come from spontaneity from the things that are imprecise, and analysis kills spontaneity. The grain once ground into flour springs and germinates no more.
There are beautiful minds who overpower those who obtain physical beauty.
Another thing I loved about Paris was the feeling of actually being in the city of love. You really feel it all around you, whether you want to or not. You start thinking of that person that makes you smile when you're alone, that person that you don't want to think about but at the same time you could just sit there all day and daydream about them simply because the thoughts are deliciously inviting and so lovely to think about. They are captivating, they are dangerous. You look around and everyone is just in love, or looking for love. But when you think about it, we're all looking for love aren't we? In the end, it is what we truly want and live for, although we may not always admit it to ourselves. The point of being successful and having everything you want is to have someone to share it with. If not, what are you really working for? Money will not satisfy, love will. Money will create temporary feelings of satisfaction and self-fulfillment, but in the end if we have no one to share with we really have nothing at all. It's amazing isn't it? The way things in life are exactly the opposite of what they should be. We live to love to learn to conquer, and do it all over again. That's the truth.
