|Pretty little school girls from a small town on the Kerala-Karnataka border|
What is beauty? It’s such a strange term. What may appear breathtaking to me may be less than ordinary to someone else and yet we live in a culture where every once in a while a man or a woman is put up on a pedestal of being fine creations of God. This makes no sense. Surrounding ourselves with unachievable, often technically enhanced, beauty keeps us from appreciating the most simplistic, often miss-able beauty that passes us by ever too discreetly. I love how Nietzsche describes it. For only he could.
“The Slow Arrow of Beauty. The most noble kind of beauty is that which does not carry us away suddenly, whose attacks are not violent or intoxicating (this kind easily awakens disgust), but rather the kind of beauty which infiltrates slowly, which we carry along with us almost unnoticed, and meet up with again in heart, it takes complete possession of us, filling our eyes with tears, our hearts with longing.” Pg 104, verse 149, Human, All Too Human