Painful beauty
The ice storm we had earlier this week left everything outdoors coated in at least 1/4 inch of ice. Trees were bent to the breaking point, electrical wires stretched dangerously low, tall thin grasses looked like rods of ice carelessly arranged in ditches and pastures. In the gray cloudiness it looked grotesque, misshapen, frightening, treacherous.
This morning the sun came out. It was achingly beautiful. Every surface shimmered, reflecting that sunlight, intensifying it. The electrical wires were so bright that you couldn't see the wires. They gave the illusion that it was just a continuing line of glowing electricity arcing mile after mile.
I had to drive in it this morning and my mind went in crazy directions. Why is it so beautiful to see the trees in such distress? It reminded me of how women make themselves beautiful---specifically the red carpet beauty of the Academy awards ceremonies. Women have dieted and surgically improved themselves and plucked and waxed and squeezed and taped themselves into clothes that distort their bodies into a better-than-real illusion of beauty. Their clothes are accentuated with as much shine and sparkle as any ice storm can boast and they walk with tiny steps on tinier shoes with stiletto heels causing their leg muscles to define themselves more beautifully than with more comfortable flat shoes. Their faces and nails enhanced with color, we want to look, to gaze in awe. Why is it more beautiful this way than natural?
This evening at sunset I was driving again. The redness of the sun showed the trees, now bare and dull and brown and back to their original shapes, branches akimbo, no shine, no glamour. It was over so quickly. Everything looked wet and soggy and sad.
Does Michelle Pfieffer ever not look beautiful?
This morning the sun came out. It was achingly beautiful. Every surface shimmered, reflecting that sunlight, intensifying it. The electrical wires were so bright that you couldn't see the wires. They gave the illusion that it was just a continuing line of glowing electricity arcing mile after mile.
I had to drive in it this morning and my mind went in crazy directions. Why is it so beautiful to see the trees in such distress? It reminded me of how women make themselves beautiful---specifically the red carpet beauty of the Academy awards ceremonies. Women have dieted and surgically improved themselves and plucked and waxed and squeezed and taped themselves into clothes that distort their bodies into a better-than-real illusion of beauty. Their clothes are accentuated with as much shine and sparkle as any ice storm can boast and they walk with tiny steps on tinier shoes with stiletto heels causing their leg muscles to define themselves more beautifully than with more comfortable flat shoes. Their faces and nails enhanced with color, we want to look, to gaze in awe. Why is it more beautiful this way than natural?
This evening at sunset I was driving again. The redness of the sun showed the trees, now bare and dull and brown and back to their original shapes, branches akimbo, no shine, no glamour. It was over so quickly. Everything looked wet and soggy and sad.
Does Michelle Pfieffer ever not look beautiful?
Comments