beautiful
“La bellezza è la somma delle parti per cui niente necessita di essere modificato,aggiunto o rimosso."
"Beauty is a summation of the parts working together in such a way that nothing is needed to be added, taken away or altered." Italian Impressionist Painter, Elio Carletti (1925-1980)
I first heard this phrase spoken in English by the character Cris Johnson in the American movie Next (played and produced by Nicholas Cage).
For years I struggled to beckon my thoughts to define beauty in such a perfectly exact, easily poised and brilliantly minimal sequence of words. I always fell long. Simplicity has proven a most formidable mountain to conquer and this is precisely why we can rant forever over the triviality of life and time but yield in saintly silence to the innocent laugh of a child or the mystifying summons in the eyes of a strange woman.
I sit on a solitary rock by my sea and gaze at the setting sun dissolving in the quenching quiver of the horizon. I comb my hair back with the tips of my fingers and roll my head toward the sky where flocks of hovering kites flutter their rainbow tails in the unseen salty draughts. Tethered to the hands of playful boys and girls, the kites sway enticingly with the wind. With their free hands the kids hold ice-cream cones and popcorn bags. Their blue jeans and colorful t-shirts soiled with dirt and chocolate, they laugh out loud in stubborn defiance to worried mothers, in blissful ignorance of things to come.
I am in love with beauty and I feel embittered that I can depict my feelings toward the generality or peculiarity of being with ease yet remain eluded by the most splendid manifestation of the universe. I flatter myself when I write about women as I definitely am not divine enough to add, take away or alter what they are. Women are such a perfect expression of substance, form and incongruity whether through creation or evolution. They are fragile, ferocious, intelligent, gorgeous, wicked, quixotic, sensible, giving and sparing at the same time. A man like that, even in the eye of a woman, is a deranged psychopath. I love that women surprise me with their predictability and hold me at bay while obliging my vanity.
I follow a creek upstream. The chirps of a lonely chukar partridge summoning his harem echo against the sides of the gorge. I step on a broken twig; the bird clears its throat and quiets down. Two surprised figures emerge from the thickets by the spring. The two young lovers might have been taking their eternal and private vows when I intruded. They shyly cross my path and I barely have time to detect the glistening reflection of the dusky sky running down their guiltless eyes. They hug again at a distance then fade in the dark and rife foliage.
The longer I write the more likely I am going to add to, take away from or alter what is simply beautiful. Hush!
"Beauty is a summation of the parts working together in such a way that nothing is needed to be added, taken away or altered." Italian Impressionist Painter, Elio Carletti (1925-1980)
I first heard this phrase spoken in English by the character Cris Johnson in the American movie Next (played and produced by Nicholas Cage).
For years I struggled to beckon my thoughts to define beauty in such a perfectly exact, easily poised and brilliantly minimal sequence of words. I always fell long. Simplicity has proven a most formidable mountain to conquer and this is precisely why we can rant forever over the triviality of life and time but yield in saintly silence to the innocent laugh of a child or the mystifying summons in the eyes of a strange woman.
I sit on a solitary rock by my sea and gaze at the setting sun dissolving in the quenching quiver of the horizon. I comb my hair back with the tips of my fingers and roll my head toward the sky where flocks of hovering kites flutter their rainbow tails in the unseen salty draughts. Tethered to the hands of playful boys and girls, the kites sway enticingly with the wind. With their free hands the kids hold ice-cream cones and popcorn bags. Their blue jeans and colorful t-shirts soiled with dirt and chocolate, they laugh out loud in stubborn defiance to worried mothers, in blissful ignorance of things to come.
I am in love with beauty and I feel embittered that I can depict my feelings toward the generality or peculiarity of being with ease yet remain eluded by the most splendid manifestation of the universe. I flatter myself when I write about women as I definitely am not divine enough to add, take away or alter what they are. Women are such a perfect expression of substance, form and incongruity whether through creation or evolution. They are fragile, ferocious, intelligent, gorgeous, wicked, quixotic, sensible, giving and sparing at the same time. A man like that, even in the eye of a woman, is a deranged psychopath. I love that women surprise me with their predictability and hold me at bay while obliging my vanity.
I follow a creek upstream. The chirps of a lonely chukar partridge summoning his harem echo against the sides of the gorge. I step on a broken twig; the bird clears its throat and quiets down. Two surprised figures emerge from the thickets by the spring. The two young lovers might have been taking their eternal and private vows when I intruded. They shyly cross my path and I barely have time to detect the glistening reflection of the dusky sky running down their guiltless eyes. They hug again at a distance then fade in the dark and rife foliage.The longer I write the more likely I am going to add to, take away from or alter what is simply beautiful. Hush!
Comments
lê
They are fragile, ferocious, intelligent, gorgeous, wicked, quixotic, sensible, giving and sparing at the same time.
Now, I do love women. I love them very much. And I hope the feeling is mutual. However, it seems that women are no exception to the golden rule that it is wrong to generalize. I can't with clear conscience say that I love this woman, as much as I love this one. (for example)
I had a good chuckle over the line "A man like that, even in the eye of a woman, is a deranged psychopath." How true!!
But speaking of beauty, it could be a weird view that clutch your sights, it could be a corner, dusty corner in the street that has weird shape, it could be an old woman's face having an exciting moment… sometimes what some people see as ultimate ugliness some others see it as the ultimate holly beauty.
True. Wild is not to be added to, taken away from or modified.
Certainly, not all "women" were equally created or (have equally evolved:-)
However, once you've had the pleasure of getting to know "some" of them you would end up loving "women" in general as a separate and independent species. This, my friend, is exactly my case.
Just the thought that you're "breathless" made me gasp for air myself.
I like to think that you belong to the gentler species and I have a strong feeling that you are and that we already know each other.
Thank you for being a lady and I'm very sorry if my feeling turns out to be totally wrong.
It's a sad fact of life, men need to be like SUV's to be of any real and practical value to women and to the rest of the world.
A "Ferrari" man (that is a man who resembles a red Ferrari) is a useless piece of junk and a shame to the rest of us 4x4 men.
Akh Ya Diana, my problem is that I was already old when they invented the INTERNET.
Beauty of course can be found in the least of expected places and in the bottomless tarns of your pretty eyes. Come again and make my space a little more beautiful.
silence
I must disagree though in your assertion that what can describe women as beautiful cannot do the same for men. I would say that men that ARE fragile, ferocious, intelligent, gorgeous, wicked, quixotic, sensible, giving and sparing are definitetly beautiful and RARE, and that to make them even MORE beautiful I would add: honest, faithful, imperfect, virile, stubborn, and witty. Now that is a very beautiful man!
w.b. yeats
Beauty is indeed in the eye of the beholder... and in yours.
However, your taste in men, ehem... is in line with my surprise at the predictability of women.
What do you want a fragile man for? A wicked man? A gorgeous man? Are we talking about a real man here or are you just pulling my leg?
Am I serious? always in wickedly sort of way.
: )
w.b.yeats
Kidding! Good post. :)
You are very talented, you make people smell,see,hear, touch ,and think about everything you write,this is art but art of arts,i mean like you collect millions,millions of roses to make a small bottle of perfume.
I value and appreciate your talent and your humanism,you are a great thinker.
God bless you.
You see I have a problem with getting ahead of myself sometimes. The image my mind conjured of a fragile, wicked and gorgeous man was that of a dumb male supermodel. And this the only person I hate more than a fragile, wicked and gorgeous female supermodel :-)
I'm full of some many things. "It" is certainly one of them.
I'm glad I left a little back door in my previous reply to your earlier comment in case I made a judgment mistake. I followed my intuition and it turned out wrong.
However, one of the reasons I love women is their sensitivity to the world around them. This what threw me off completely in your writing.
It's very hard to reply to your 2nd comment and not simply because of my desire to act humbly in the face of such praise. I'm simply delighted and bursting with joy at your words. I try my best to convey the sense I'm most proud of in my character "honesty" in my writing. If I were to write my own epitaph it would simply state that: "He was an honest man." Now, I think that there is a thin line between greatness for a writer, thinker, poet, artist and simply being good. It's my own opinion of myself that I have not crossed that line for many reasons. Some of these reasons I can somehow affect and control while others are completely beyond me.
There is a chance that I might cross that line someday but then again I might not. In either case your opinion of me made my day and frankly I don't care much how things will turn out. Hey it would be nice to be known by total strangers but it's more important to be remembered (well) by those who knew me.
Again, thank you.
you know me better than that!!!! (I hope) A model?! &^%@#$#@$%%#$$
Not my idea of beautiful or gorgeous by far. Conceited individuals...
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w.b.yeats
Why you bother at all taking into consideration that you might be right of course. A comment on a boring blog! I wonder about your reaction when you're actually having a good time.
But I do agree with you in your look at women as those beauty soft weak inherited values which they are actually an indication of the strength and wisdom we should admire and hold them high.
I think nations when they reached the age of wisdom and their testosterone reduced they embrace women as leaders and queens.
Abufares, Why sometimes I feel that you are like that bridge in nowhere plane, lonely, imagistic even if not many pay attention to, while it represent the real value.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/mahmoudshuairi/2710724458/
BTW, he is great photographer, isn’t he?
First let me thank you for the great link. Mahmoud Shuairi is indeed a great photographer and I thoroughly enjoyed his artistic work.
That I'm a bridge yet lonely, imagistic and unnoticed... I really don't know whether to agree or disagree.
Lonely? Yes and No and it has nothing to do with my being alone or with company. I'm most lonely in a big crowd.
Imagistic? that is from imagism as in the literary movement of the early 20th century (Ezra Pound, T. S. Eliot, ...etc.)? I'm certain that my English writing has been greatly influenced by this literary form since I enjoy and appreciate it tremendously.
Unnoticed? I'm a person who keeps a low profile in general that's true. My "hobby" is not particularly one which attracts or seeks a large audience. You know over the last 2 years I have met lots of new and interesting people who are extremely well read and fluent in English. I rarely mention that I have a blog. May be one or two maximum came to know about it from me directly.
I met a very interesting man who stayed in Tartous for a little over a year then returned to the UK in a career move. Writing casually to him I told him to check my blog when he had some free time. He wrote back that accepting the position in Tartous was partly a result of reading my blog. He always wanted to meet the author and ask him some specific questions.It never occurred to him that the man on the motorcycle with the leather jacket was the same refined business acquaintance. Too bad, we had several dinners together and always enjoyed each other company. I should've brought up the subject when our conversation veered to literature and preferred reading.
Did I answer your question?
When I said lonely, I meant it in the good way. And remember we are here in the USA 90% of us citizens are lonely. We all crave for attention (that is something unite us both male and female), but tell you the truth, here, we as the first generation immigrants, are more lonely than you fellows out there. Sometimes a whole day pass without saying a word. Without radio and TV we would be zombies. In this year we have only three visitors so far. I do not hate to be lonely because I know it is the price to be paid for current times and it is harder on some who came from very active social places like the middle east.
Did you answer my question, sorry but you did not. I was waiting for you to comment on the first three paragraphs not the fourth.
PS. I see you've been visited by a troll. I laugh at the fact that they're always anonymous!! Just ignore - clearly they have no idea what they're talking about.
You should tell your husband (more than you already do) that he's so lucky to have you:-)
Trolls! So they have a name? and a proper one no less. Well, it's alright as long as they maintain a semblance of manners.