The Power of Beauty [antikvár]

1The GazeMy Mother's EyesI am a woman who needs to be seen. I need it in a basic way, as in to breathe, to eat. Or not to be seen, that is the other increasingly attractive option, to give up the hfelong preoccupation of finding myself in others' eyes, the need to be taken in so that my existence is noted.Ambivalence explains so much of life. As in, I love you, I hate you. As in, how much to show, how much to let another see of one's needs, one's naked self. What bliss to show all and be adored; what agony to be judged, then abandoned after having revealed so much of one's fragile self. Better to show nothing. But then, who would have seen us?Do we begin life all open? Is ambivalence born of little rejected bits of the exposed self? Once, long ago, we were naked. We lovedno, love is learnedwe needed the first eyes, the arms that took us in. Did they love what they saw? We can't remember and so we stand at the mirror, unbuttoning the top button, inviting the eye, and then buttoning back up, playing it safe. But love is not safe; when we fall in love every button is undone, the risk of rejection taken. These eyes that look at us promise adoration. Of course we save our hottest rages for the