BEAUTY AND THE LEAST
Each of us, I am convinced, has within us an innate love of beauty.
We may be totally unaware of the fact that it is present, but it is still there. We, as individuals, may even deny that it exists within us at all or strive to remove it as a mark of “sissification.” Yet, there it remains -
always.
It remains unused until the words or works of someone, an admirer or fellow-dweller in a drab world, triggers the flow.
It may come in that form of art concerning painters - from a person with brushes, canvas and oil or watercolors at hand, or, it could just as easily, come from someone creating music, writing stories, plays or poetry,
or building bridges, houses or office buildings and factories. It could come to you from the photographic genre or from sculpting.
Those other persons, as a rule, have their own idea of what constitutes beauty demanding clarity from their own internal sources of true beauty, and hey are scheduled to respond. They judge and evaluate their
concept of beauty, and watching them and seeing their works, we become aware that we, too, have, within us, certain standards of what we believe art must be - in whatever outward form it might take.
I know people who deny ever having had artistic abilities or knowledge of any kind, but - to me, at least, it seems to be one of the basic qualities of fine living. It comes to us early, by way of parents or grandparents
who lead a life of artistic appreciation even though they, themselves have never came to realize how much it had influence their lives. Granddaddy looked out over a green expanse of a field of growing corn and marveled at the
miracle of it all - planted by his hand - saw the symmetry, the rich color, semsed the smell and the feel of it maturing as a living thing - a tribute to his deft handling of the tiny seed from which it sprang and which he nurtured to fullness
in form and purpose. Grandma in her baking and cooking was more of an artist than she ever thought herself to be, as well as in the exercise of loving care she gave her children and her children’s children.
A basis need for perfection is deep with us all as an enduring quality of life. Once planted it grows well in human beings. It is a latent sense of artistry. It makes few demands upon us. The very least one can do is to
approach life with an open heart and mind and some day, somewhere ,there will be a person - a man, woman, child, or aged friend who will see it in you and ignite it by example or instruction. The least we can do is to seek, rather
than simply wait for such a person to influence our lives in this manner.
This is yet another area of living today which progresses “in mysterious ways”, so there is no definite way to determine at what point you may be led to become what you really are. It could come from family, from
friends, or, quite often it comes from a new romantic interest recently formed.
Beauty is there - within us. The least we can do is to be available when the moment arrives and not be so overly occupied with pressing affairs of the world that we miss the contact.
Many are waiting...others....
Waiting for beauty to reveal itself in their lives, and you may well be the needed catalyst.
A.L.M. September 24, 2002 [c608wds]
