Speaking of Speaking of Understanding

I think I need to expand on my comment from yesterday.

When I see a painting, I don't think "that's not very good" or "it would've been better if..." the sky was overcast, the woman was standing, the wall was lower, the colours more vivid. I think "why can't I do that? I can't draw a ruler with a straight line."

I once ad-libbed a role that made my audience cry. I'm still awestruck at how a good actor can whipsaw my feelings.

I don't look at a woman and think "she could've done her makeup better" or "why'd she do that to her hair?" I'm in awe that she can get up every morning and look great in that outfit and put on just that right amount of makeup. I'm enraptured watching a woman tie her hair into a pony tail or something more complex while she's talking, without looking in a mirror, without even checking when she's done.

The confidence amazes me. I mean it ~ I'm in awe.

Now, I'm going to backtrack, but it's not because I'm being critical ~ it's because I'm being selfish.

There are women I look forward to seeing because they always look great and always dress great. Then I go over to say hi and she's decided it's a jeans day and I wish she'd worn that dynamite suit with the pleated skirt she wore last week. Or she decided to tie up that incredible long hair (but I'm still in awe at the skill it takes to hid that much hair!). Or she raced out the door and forgot the wonderful earrings I look forward to seeing.

I'm still in awe. I'm just disappointed.

All women are beautiful. Some in a small way, some in every way (and you know who you are).

I still wish I could paint. I also wish I could get dressed in the morning and go to work and feel like I'm adding a little beauty myself.