has always struck me odd that pain, anxious unrest, a kind of longing all the more poignant, as nameless. That captures people's presence bellezza.e for real beauty, I mean a Garbo , no to Gregoraci.
around us but we are gripped by a bombardment of perception, if we can make a silence within us, the inevitable question is: how much of what is around us could rightly be counted in the category the Beautiful? ... In this case, deliberately, with capitals ....
stable even more difficult, a priori a kind of canon that assures us, (a times and for all?) of what is beautiful and what, no, .. have tried philosophers, theorists of aesthetics of semiotics etc etc etc
I believe that each of us has his own relationship with the essential nice I can only suggest that beauty, far from satisfying, it creates a kind of emptiness, a hunger, an eternal absence of reference to something unspeakable is still no ............... and maybe that's okay.
satisfaction of a desire is not, perhaps, his grave?
