Wisps of smoke

I confess myself a complex and contradictory being, with halfhearted whims, powerful outbreaks and irrational inconsistencies. A romantic and realistic heart and soul. I thrive in my silent contemplations, as I close my eyes and free my soul forgetting reason and reality and I am a queen and a pauper, a danser, a damsel, and a poet.

As a queen I am haughty and arch my neck and my head bows to no one. And my choice is backed by power and I relish in it and in the power of my decisions. And I choose to be cruel or forgiving and the realization of each caprice and desire of mine depends on my wish of making them true or not.

And then I am a pauper and I thirst water and hunger bread. And I am thankful for each drop of rain that quenches my thirst and for each morsel that no matter the taste I find delicious because I managed to eat. And I thank the warm wind for being my coat and the world for being my home.

Then a noise arouses me from my slumber and my eyes open once more and I am who I used to be. And I stroke my babys hair and I caress her cheek as she sleeps and then so do I.

When again I see I am a passionate dancer and my skirt swirls like a river and my steps have the beat of fire. My hands and my eyes speak with each move, each stop, each curve I make soundlessly. And I am an object of awe and admiration, completely out of reach and slightly out of mind.

Then there is silence and my dress is bleached and the wild in my eye disappears and I am a sweet and fragile damsel. And I clutch at my throat and I shut my eyes and hug my knees and hide. I am scared and shut my heart and my mind and lie still in the pureness of my soul.

When I stand I am poet and my lips tingle and my eyelids bat and my stomach quivers from feelings that aren't there. And my love and my woes, my hopes and my fears pour out of my heart and my soul until I feel empty but find this emptiness oddly filling and satisfaction is mine. 

I am a somewhat ashamed and somewhat proud that I allowed these wisps of smoke escape from my mind while the thoughts and desires that mothered them have never yet seen the sun and the window of their materializing is incredibly small. 

And I pretend I am not all these things and I pretend that I am too.

And they exist. And they do not.

Beauty (?)

I've been thinking a lot about the concept of beauty lately (you know). And I'd like to point out that I'm talking about the Concept, not just being atractive. The word, "beautiful" has been applied to so many different looks, has had so many changes that it's impossible to just box and label it. From having hot curves with meat on them, sculpted bodies, to being sickly skinny (Does anyone remember Twiggy? She started it, but now it's been taken too far).

Not cool people. Not healthy. Not beautiful. For example, what's the point of a work of art? We're all so different ourselves, it's logical that we'll all see it differently. Its beauty lies in what it transmits. In how it makes you feel. Free? Happy? Or sad? Can you feel the confusion, or the joy, that the artist felt when he was painting? That's where the paintings' beauty truly lies. However, what do you feel when you see a girl that is starving herself to be thin and show off her clothes like the models on a magazine? Can you feel the girls insecurity? Her sadness, frustration? There may fashion there, but there is no beauty.

Or let's say that anyone, really, regardless gender. But for this example let us say a woman is in her time physically perfect: she has a perfect nose, a great body, beautiful face, great teeth... you name it. She also happens to be married, but she always greets her husband with an ugly expression on her face. Ranging from angry at worst, indifferent at best. To her husband, she does not look beautiful.

I am not saying that people shouldn't try and dress up, look nice and primp themselves up. I do it everyday. I enjoy doing it. You could even say it's in my DNA. But what's behind, that's what really comes across. I'm not a pro at it, the proof is in my last post. I've bought some magazines to give me ideas, but those are just suggestions, not canons. I personally like to look pretty, but I strive to look beautiful to my hubby, to my baby, my family, my friends.

We all need beauty, true beauty in our lives.