QUICK THOUGHTS: Sixty-year-olds and timeless beauty.
QUICK THOUGHTS: Sixty-year-olds and
If femininity comes down to just being beautiful, what about a 60-year-old who loses the attributes of youth, those attributes we usually associate with beauty? It has the signs of its now long journey, like a tree that remembers the years that saw it live. The body changes, while its inner life improves. A woman is always a woman, but now with advancing age she is more so. Over the years, beauty thins out, becomes different, not only showy boobs, a splendid face, bearing , but a fascinating splendor that invests us sedately, it comes from real life. A marvelous power that arises precisely from the strength of age, from the awareness of the past, and at times proposes a furious dignity of her sex, together with the strength that being a woman generates. The desire is strong, the desire to be loved is magic and the desire for a partner is adamant. Some, who have given their soul to their now grown children, live a free, mature and frenetic ferment, as if to recover that time devoted beyond themselves . The now unmasked beauty continues to exist and resist. Beauty is always something that doesn't last, but it's there and it's very dynamic. Am I not as beautiful as before? I am finally loved for another reason, for another quality that is finally expressed. The truth is that today's sixty-year-olds, not the "fake" ones, are still aesthetically fascinating, because they have abandoned their fraudulent vanity towards the male, narcissism leaves more room for masochism, and they know how to be action and creativity. Theirs is a <<great beauty>>, it is interaction, it is good taste, it is the ability to love, it is sexual freedom, it is a past they want to re-read. We like them for how they want to love, for how they know how to make themselves loved, and we look at them with a surprised look, we see them fascinating for how they give us brilliant examples of life. Their vitality and desire to be, surprise us peers, they suck us into the vortex of great passions, for life, for aesthetics, for nature, for children, and they infect us. They shake us from the torpor that makes us all the same, they make us enter a field of creativity where everything is still possible. They teach us about life. Above: The Naiad by Antonio Canova