For centuries, the beauty ideal has been an important issue; especially in the western culture the aesthetic has played a central role, we can find an example at the Greek culture where philosophers as Plato considered the beauty as an essential virtue: harmony, proportion but above all, something ethereal:

“But of beauty, I repeat again that we saw her there shining in company with the celestial forms; and coming to earth we find her here too, shining in clearness through the clearest aperture of sense. For sight is the most piercing of our bodily senses; though not by that is wisdom seen; her loveliness would have been transporting if there had been a visible image of her, and the other ideas, if they had visible counterparts, would be equally lovely. But this is the privilege of beauty, that being the loveliest she is also the most palpable to sight” (Phaedrus 250d)     

Therefore, the beauty only can be captured by a special light, the body only can catch her in small doses “radiance of beauty”; Plato broke with the ancient idea of what is beautiful is what we love, there is something greater not only a nice body, a pretty face but some kind of wisdom. 

But, since I have age of reason, the society has imposed me several archetypes, roles, ideals about how the world should be and how I must see our perfect human race over the rest of inferior living things, including of course, the beauty and the ugliness. After a fast review of media I can see a recurring trend in our “wonderful society” about beauty, order, cleaning, religion, human relations, etc.; we carry on our shoulders a heavy burden that the same culture imposes us, the white wants to be brown, the brown wants to be white, the thin wants to be strong, the strong wants to be slim, the short wants to be tall and the tall doesn’t want to be a “giraffe”. In my country for example, the TV commercials are full of nice faces with a whole different ethnic profiling, it seems that we do not live in Mexico but in northern Europe. The ideal culture, trough the media, inculcates us fashions, styles of life, prejudices, perceptions, desires and fantasies.

So, when we see something different, something that simply does not fit at the established standards it can seems in front of our eyes as something brutal or grotesque. A sample can be the art; everybody loves a Botticelli, a Michael Angelo, a Rembrandt etc. but also there must be something alternative.  In my case I love Frida Kahlo.      


Frida Kahlo was a magnificent painter, since her childhood was characterized by a deep sense of independence and rebellion against social and moral habits, always moved by the passion and sensuality.

She was born on July 6, 1907 at Mexico City in an era marked by a strong male control with taboos and imposed hierarchies; however she created an absolutely personal painting, naive and deeply metaphorical at the same time, stemming from its exalted and sensitivity of several events that marked her life. She decides to depart from the standards and creates a novel aesthetics.

In 1913, at the age of 6, Frida contracted polio, which left her right foot crippled and earned her the cruel nickname “Peg-leg Frida.” Kahlo was very sensitive about this deformity, and this would lead her to wear, at first, trousers and, later, long exotic skirts that would become one of her trademarks.

On a rainy day in September 1925, Frida Kahlo and her boyfriend Alejandro Gómez Arias were in Mexico City waiting for a bus that would take them to her home; the driver approached a risky intersection and decided to take his chances. Seconds later, an electric trolley rammed into the bus, destroying it and launching bodies everywhere. This accident was the beginning of an unbearably painful series of physical ailments that would persist for the rest of Kahlo’s short life.

A big part of her art is full of a complete pain; you can see her suffering in many of her self-portraits, for example: The Broken Column, a lonely desolate figure stands in a lonely desolate landscape. Represents her shattered spine and her body is held together by the steel corset she was forced to wear. The pins represent her mental and physical pain and the tear stained face says it all.

Her painting takes you to another level and I think it’s something that may be you should take a look.

Gutenbeg Project: Phaedrus at:       

http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext99/phdrs10.txt

Some portraits and pictures of Frida Kahlo at:

http://www.fridakahlofans.com/mainmenu.html

That is the thing about beauty, in whatever form it may take: the appreciation of it comes from within... because true beauty is inherent in the creation whether it be a person, place, thing, or concept.

Much harm is done when outside institutions try to impose their (false) ideas of beauty upon others in order to subterfuge the individual's own ability to acknowledge true beauty/wisdom.

It is the soul that is important. It shines through if one will take the time to see past the surface.

The thing about this whole thing is, one must have some measure of beauty within themselves in order to appreciate it anywhere else.

It seems as if that ability is becoming all too rare. What does that say about the caliber of our society, anymore?

I've complained about the topic quite a bit in the last few months, I've noticed the growing trends of change in what "Beautiful" really is. One of my Professors wrote an amazing article which ties into this whole subject. In this article it explains how the term obesity has changed over the last 50 years, as it becomes more socially regulated than medically.

I feel that Beauty works on the same level, socially imposed regulations have stripped People of more valuable qualities which are not seen on the outside. I do my best to promote inner beauty and the qualities which make people unique. I've never been attracted to the socially imposed norm, and most men I know aren't either. However the cycle continues...