Monday, March 21, 2016

About Beauty

How transcendental the adoration of beauty, a cult of loveliness which is in suggestion rather than in statement, a synesthetic effect in a sentence, the lure of a nuance in a sub text. Exquisite unspokenness bursting with possibilities, unexplored. A hint of a pulse of life, of exclusivity, the dawning awareness of a shared imagination. I speak of beauty implied, the maddening allure of an abstraction; just out of one’s grasp. Subtle male undertone in a lilting female tenor. Darkly blending medley of notes; beguiling abstruseness of androgyny. The echo after a song, the blazing butterflies pupating in a throat after a fevered near-kiss, brightness before a smile – gliding into a cheerful chortle. It is a vaguely remembered scent of a happy yesterday, a rush of recollection (that your mind goes ‘oh, oh.. and then, and this, and there…’ in a hurry to thread together all the shimmering, spilling beads of reminiscence). It is the heady promises tickling the air just before the start of a much-awaited journey, a holiday, the cusp of a happily-ever-after. Yesterday it was that perfect little cup of tea waiting for me at the perfect reading spot almost glowing it the yellowy-mellow light of the late November afternoon with melted shades of persimmon steeping into the golden petals of the sky.
A contemplating of beauty for beauty’s sake, a reconciliation with something lost, a reunion, a regaining of a lost paradise.

Image by Carl Larsson

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