The beauty of pain
I don’t think everyone gets it, the beauty of pain; acknowledging everything that hurts and twists your heart, mind and soul. I went to an artist talk last night and left the gallery with an urge to create, just create… As the artist kept talking about the beauty of pain, I kept smiling…
Perhaps the beauty lies in the acknowledgment of pain, not the pain itself? Should beauty lie in pain, then it is pain no more.
Pain has beauty in the sense that with out it there is no measurement for happiness and pleasure.
Acknowledging what hurts you keeps you always aware of what it takes to be happy.
Besides; there is a hell of a lot more interesting to wright about pain and hurt, than ones own well beeing.
I love what you wrote!
(Gratulere med Blogg, snuppa! Klem Nina)
When you feel pain, instead as rushing it and get it somehow healed.. to stop for a moment and actually experience pain and think of what goes on in your body, think of this feeling being the everyday for many people.
And then there is the beauty of pain for me.
If you talk about the beauty of pain, I’ll tell you something about beauty and ugly or the ugliness of beauty, or the beaty of beauty…
But let Picasso speak:
“un jour j’ai assiet la beautée sur mes genoux; et je l’ai trouvée amaire; et je l’ai injourié”
(one day I put the beauty on my lap; and I found it bitter; and I curse it).