As it does so often perusing the pages of SG, my feeble gray matter struggles with the meditation of beauty. Staring wistfully into faces and eyes trying to determine exactly what it is that holds my gaze so fervently. Sometimes a shape, other times an expression, still others the collaboration of light and texture. It can feel both infinite and impossibly precise but rarely simultaneously. Sometimes it seems archetypal, culturally conditioned while other times entirely exclusive and personal. Often it is the genesis of intricate imaginative chimera that synthesizes with reality absolutely. Conversely, it can be perfectly static, its delicacy residing in tranquility. It is at times ambiguous, incredulously begging; how can something be more beautiful than another? And sometimes lucidly inevitable. Utterly consuming and agonizingly treacherous, it is unbound by etiquette and decorum, and yet the impetus for seemingly all discomposure and passionate inspiration. As immeasurably intricate and deliciously enigmatic as I can make it, it is deceptively simple... and so I silently stare...
lyamoon:
❤️❤️❤️ Good blog 😊