Stendhal figured that beauty held the promise of happiness. I find that is a peculiarly true statement. Peculiarly true as it cuts to the capricious nuances by which beauty is confined. It is precisely these subtle shifts of cause and effect in the appreciative fog that we can find our own sense of things, offering us an immense amount of freedom to decide our fate. What more is life than creating the beautiful? Notwithstanding the hobgoblins of monotony of which I have been recently reminded.
1 comment:
Nice post. It is a post that I can only read. It would be nearly impossible for me to speak that post. The reason is that of all the words in English, the most difficult one for me to say is "peculiar" and even moreso with "peculiarly." I challenge people to try this.
I worked with a Panamanian who said the hardest word for him to pronounce--almost linguistically impossible given his spanish disposition was "Fort Lauderdale" It was enjoyable to pose this challenge to various panamanians.
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