Tag Archives: beauty

Intermission

My Wife the Gardener

She dug the plot on Monday –
the soil was rich and fine,
She forgot to thaw out dinner –
so we went out to dine…
She planted roses Tuesday –
she says they are a must,
They really are quite lovely
but she quite forgot to dust.
On Wednesday it was daisies –
they opened up with the sun,
All whites and pinks and yellows –
but the laundry wasn’t done…
The poppies came on Thursday –
a bright and cherry red,
I guess she really was engrossed –
she never made the bed…
It was violets on Friday –
in colours she adores,
It never bothered her at all –
all crumbs upon the floors
I hired a maid on Saturday –
my week is now complete,
My wife can garden all she wants –
the house will still be neat!
It’s nearly lunchtime Sunday –
and I cannot find the maid,
Oh no! I don’t believe it!
She’s out there WITH THE SPADE!

~ Peter (poem in an old magazine via Facebook)

SONY DSC

Invisible League

Like Alice plunging down the rabbit hole, I was suddenly not the fun girl at the party but the dotty auntie figure we humor for a moment before moving on. As older women we are no longer desirable, no longer perceived as anything but taking up space a younger person could put to better use in the job, in the relationship, in life. Age, I now realize, doesn’t creep up, it fells you with changes you didn’t see coming. And it happens at 50. You vanish, replaced by an old and forgettable woman.

This is an excerpt from an article written by Tracy Nesdoly for The Star (see the full article here) about At what age do some women begin to feel invisible? I came across this while looking for random things about age on the internet. One click and I was suddenly bombarded with page after page of written stories about women of a certain age who are invisible and no longer seen as important part of society. The titles are demeaning. Not only for us middle age women but for any woman young or old because whether we like it or not we will be in that position sooner or later. What do you think of: Dating: I’m the Invisible woman,  where the writer calling herself a mere plankton in the food chain of sexuality and the marketplace for relationships. A flimflam, a nuisance, an embarrassment of landfill. It hurts, doesn’t it?

In this post, ‘Invisible’ middle-aged women are fighting back English writer Helen Walmsley-Johnson talks about menopause, sexual, currency, dressing up for your age and hormones replacement. She recounted her personal experience with a group of young boys while walking through the park one day.

They made fun of her brisk walk, then began to crudely share their views on which of a group of passing schoolgirls they wanted to have sex with, clearly intending for her to hear. Tired of listening, Walmsley-Johnson asked them to move on — and to consider keeping their sexist remarks to themselves. They reacted with hissing, noxious anger, calling her a “dried up old c***” and suggesting that if a “real woman” were to talk to them about sexism, they might listen.

I have yet to experience this sort of things. Do I have to consider myself lucky?

I have always been younger looking than my real age (thanks to my ethnicity and good genes- the only good I inherited from my ancestors) not only by few years but by more than a decade, let’s say at least fifteen. When I’ve met my current husband I was thirty-seven but he thought I was twenty-two and so were his family and friends. When I was twenty-five they don’t allow me in the discos because the guards thought my ID was fake. I was once banned from accompanying my daughter to sexual orientation class because they thought I was her sister and only parents were allowed. And so the years go on like that, me being used to getting attention (lots of it actually) I don’t care for and wishing I’m invisible.

No, I don’t wear sexy or provocative clothes, figure-hugging attires will not find a home in my closet, I don’t wear makeup, high heels and go to the hair salon only once a year. In short, I am a low maintenance girl. Attracting attention to myself (any kind of attention) was and will never be my purpose in life and it irritates me enormously getting more than I think I deserved. And I thought it will go on like that till the end. Never cross in my naive brain that it will change someday.

The first sign happened when I turned forty- three. I was in the pharmacy and the guy behind the counter referred to me as ‘Madame’ instead of ‘Mademoiselle.’  I was taken aback. Shocked in fact. It hurts. I was always been ‘Mademoiselle’ instead of ‘Madame’ and suddenly it’s the other way around. I thought then that ‘now the process had begun.’

When almost a decade had passed with nothing or little changes to my status as a desirable woman I again thought it will never happen, until this year.

I am still looking at least fifteen years younger than my real age but I’m fifty-one, and forty isn’t twenty. And gradually I noticed subtle changes. The guys who are looking at me now are not the sixteen years old anymore. The twenty-something still glance my way but soon averted their eyes when they realized in which age category I truly belonged. Their gaze never lingers anymore or check more than once, they bestow me an interested glance which quickly fades and then move on without looking back. I can walk now into a restaurant without commanding attention. There was a time that wherever I walk men (women too but with hostility) stop whatever they were doing and look, and keep looking till I was out of sight. I have out of this world experience related to my sensuality and it’s strong effect on men you wouldn’t believe if I tell so I would spare you the details. I was by no means a ‘beauty’ or ‘femme fatale,’ the truth is I never know why I had this such effect on men, my ex once described me as magic but whatever it is, it is soon disappearing.

And with it comes the realization that I don’t want to be invisible. Not only as a woman but as a human being. I’m getting old yes, I’m losing my magic, probably so, but I still have feelings. Feelings never change. Who wants to be irrelevant?

Deborra-Lee-Furness, in her interview with Australian Women’s Weekly magazine, talked about jaw-droppingly insulting titles of stories written about her (and others who are in the same situation) being married to uber hunk Mr. Hugh Jackman who happened to be thirteen years her junior. She said: “People think a 58-year-old woman doesn’t deserve a big-shot, funny, handsome, movie star husband at all. It’s still acceptable for there to be a million internet articles about being a supposedly unattractive middle-aged man and be able to “punch above your weight” and bag yourself a younger, stunning partner.”

What could I say? I am married to someone 11 years my junior. Do I have to be scared? He’s getting old too I know but everyone is aware that getting old is not the same for men and women. I don’t have to list the differences because it is a common knowledge. Damn the double standard.

Marina Benjamin, author of The Middlepause found an essay from a 1903 issue of Cosmopolitan magazine in which a woman of 50′ used to be perceived as a person of achievement and grace and was “characterized as having ‘distinctive charm and beauty, ripe views, disciplined intellect, and cultivated manifold gifts’.” That is so clearly not the case nowadays, and for the woman approaching this milestone age, there is a good reason to feel anxious, or sad, or pissed off. She said:

“Fifty feels tarnished as an old coin, and worn — worn down and worn out,” she says. “There is nothing glamorous about 50 that I can see, not even in some retro way.” 

How about you? Do you have Invisible Woman Syndrome?

reflections6

Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder

It’s not puberty that hits you. It’s your deliberate choice to cope with society’s standards of beauty. You shed fats, you wore makeup, you fit in. Truth be told, if you aren’t beautiful to them, you’ll surely won’t be treated right.

I discovered lipstick when I was 48 and I started wearing them only two years ago. I don’t care what society wants and expects, I have my own rules. It doesn’t make my life any easier but I don’t go with the flow and life is too short to worry myself about things that don’t concern me really. I’ve been treated unfairly because of the color of my skin and been accused of many things I didn’t do because I refuse to be part of the social herd but what judgmental, simple-minded prejudiced people think say and do tell more about their narrow one-track mindedness and characters than about me. Eat their hearts out for all I care. Shakespeare once said:

My beauty, though but mean,
Needs not the painted flourish of your praise:
Beauty is bought by judgement of the eye,
Not utter’d by base sale of chapmen’s tongues

That means beauty, like supreme dominion
Is but supported by opinion and exists merely in the mind which contemplates them.

e2

My Place In The World

“What a strange thing!
to be alive
beneath cherry blossoms.” 
― Kobayashi Issa, Poems

DSC02884e

I’m a nature lover, I can’t live without a (preferably cottage) garden. That and books. 

I like to be in the city no doubt. Especially when I want to be alone but not lonely, then I want to be amongst people I have nothing to do with. Strangers who don’t want something from me. I can happily be lost in anonymity while surrounded by life itself. I thrive on that.

But nothing can compare the joy and peace nature brings to my daily existence. I love to see things grow, watch the progress, observe the changing of seasons and admire the beauty of everything, the sunshine on the water, moon’s reflection on a lake, the turbulent sea and the buzz of insects.

I love to wake up in the morning with the birds singing outside my window, love to watch them do their things, I love to paint the different species of flowers and photograph their life cycle. I love to bath in the rain and chase rainbows, jump from the top of the waterfalls, hike mountains and walk; walk the beaten paths and road less traveled. I’m not only a nomad and a gypsy but a country girl at heart.

My place in the world? Definitely in nature.

If you’ve got it, flaunt it!

I disagree.

At least not always and depends on the situation and the manner of showing your assets. It’s okay to be confident, it’s okay to be proud of what you have but it’s not okay to be vulgar, not in my dictionary.  

Flaunt means to show something that you are proud of to other people, in order to impress them and in my book, anything you do to impress people ( unless you are soliciting for a job or aiming for something similar) is the same as caressing your own ego, to seek validation, confirmation. And if you need others to verify and affirm your own self-worth, what you are then? It’s the same as only insecure people have an urge to belittle others to feel good about themselves. Only those who have serious self-esteem issues feel the need to stand on someone else’s back to look tall. 

I’m all for self-expression and keeping your own personality and originality but do it because it’s you and nothing else. Don’t be different for the sake of being different. Don’t be out there to be noticed, to stand out and feel special, to attract attention and be admired. Don’t flaunt you think what you’ve got for all the wrong reasons. If you’re authentic, sooner or/than later people will notice believe me. It’s hard to hide one’s own true nature. Like the truth, it will come out eventually.

Just be yourself and if it means being a rainbow amidst all the greys then so be it.

_vin20-fb28f6d8-fb04-102f-9d6f-0019b9d5c8df  

Observe

That’s what I do (automatically) observe people and surroundings. I can assess situations in mere seconds and draw my conclusion from what’s before me. I see the big picture in one glance and miss nothing. Being an Empath I see more and feel more, therefore, learn more. Words mean nothing to me. It’s the body language and tone of voice I focus on to determine with whom I am dealing with. That and my instinct which up to now never fails me yet.

Even in a relaxed environment and situation I never stop observing and absorbing scenes. People fascinate me in a lot of ways, their relationships with others and their surroundings, and the manners they choose to express their personal tastes and preferences revealing their true characters and what’s going on under the surface. But most of all I admire their beauties from an artist’s point of view. The tilt of the chin, the way the eyes look in certain lights, the cheekbones, and the facial expressions, the colors of the hair when the sun rays hit the strands, freckles over the nose bridge, things like that. What beautiful for me may not be so for the others since beauty is subjective. Let’s put it this way: If a subject caught my attention, that says enough. If it keeps me interested for more than five minutes that’s already a record, but if I want to capture their image through photography or on canvas, that means I’m impressed.

I can’t say this enough: I am not particularly fond of people on a more personal basis but they are my never-ending source of inspiration for my crafts. Them and life itself. 

mapas_culturales_jesus

Prolific

At this time of the year, there are some plants that bloom prolifically as if there is no tomorrow. And rightly so because their days are numbered. They have to put on a show as best as they can for their beauties are transient, ephemeral. Their glory is momentary, their claim to fame is short and sudden. Luckily, they will have another chance to do it again though they have to wait long for it. But what’s another year?        

20170326_200047

20170330_191313e

Conjure

When I was young(er) let’s say older than the normal age of someone who supposed to be doing what I was doing, I used to camp around cemeteries at 2:00 a.m. playing spirit of the glass trying to summon anything that cares to be summoned. I even broke into an abandoned subdivision that had been collapsed and buried most of its inhabitants (alive) and their houses due to multiple engineering failures design flaws and material faults. They say there is a very strong connection to the other side in places where there are humans casualties. I thought I would have better luck there but of course I was wrong. I once forced open a deserted house to perform my conjuring trick inside but again without success. I don’t know what I was thinking those times. Temporary insanity probably. Abandoned dilapidated rundown ruins and graveyards still attract and fascinate me and I still invite myself in from time to time but not to do what I used to do but to take photographs and just walk around and admire what is left. I can’t help it. I find these places beautiful. Even better, interesting. Mysterious. Magical. 

larundel_mental_asylum_by_kipkent-d5iknho2

Tour Guide

I live somewhere in Europe and as you know the continent is full of beautiful places, historical buildings, breathtaking landscapes and awe-inspiring nature. I could have chosen any of those but I thought which of those you have never seen before? And after a time landmarks tend to either look like or blend with each other or become so familiar people just scroll down when they see them. 

So, today I have chosen a unique piece of art I bet most of you didn’t behold yet.

It was a chance encounter. Not even in my wildest dream, I thought I will find it where it is__ in the middle of nowhere. While hiking I saw it from a distance and I thought: “What is that???” It appears and disappears from view. When you see it you’ll understand what I mean. You see… it looks like this:

DSC01258e

The way it was constructed fascinates me endlessly. I’ve never seen something quite like it before.

DSC01272

DSC01264e

When you look up it looks like this:

DSC01266e

Amazing isn’t it?   

They call it Reading Between The Lines Church and located in the city of Borgloon in the province of Limburg.