Pretty Women

One day my Hebrew prof. began the class by saying, "I am an unusually good-looking person." In fact, he wasn't really, so we all sort of smirked or raised our eyebrows, and he continued, "It's true! I am an unusually good-looking person. How do I know that? Well, by looking in the mirror, of course!" We still weren't getting it. "Because when I look in the mirror, I know just where to stand, and just the right angle to hold my head, so that I see myself in the best possible light, and dang, do I look good!"

When I was a child, people used to tell me I was beautiful, and I believed them, partly because, like my old Hebrew prof., I thought I could prove it to myself by looking in the mirror. Now, as an adult, I no longer have a sense of how pretty I am, because I don't trust my own perception and I don't trust anyone to tell me what they really think. I guess I consider myself to be kind of pretty, on a good day, in the right lighting, as long as my hair is doing something flattering. But I know I am not among the top tier of gorgeous women ...

One day I saw a woman on the train who just about made my heart stop--she was stunning--her face was just so perfect. I've always hated that stupid song, "You're Beautiful" by James Blunt, and yet it came true! Well, except, she never looked at me. And she wasn't with anyone. But, "I will never be with her" (sigh!) ... although that's really not so tragic as that dumb song makes it out to be. I just hope she has a significant other who appreciates the perfect contour of her cheek, the exquisite shapeliness of her mouth, etc. etc.

I never blogged about one of the high points of my time in Florence--seeing (adoring--really, just short of worshipping) Titian's Venus of Urbino. "The woman." I remember how I caught my breath the moment I first saw a photo of her in my art history textbook. The most sublimely erotic image of a woman ever painted.

But to think! She's not just an imaginary ideal! There are women, living, flesh and blood women as beautiful, as perfect as she, ripe for the enjoyment of some damn lucky bastard. I wonder if they know, these goddesses among women, the brilliancy of the radiance they possess ...

"Ah, pretty women ..."

I suppose they must know ...