Beauty in truth.



The weather was (predictably) unpredictable throughout our time in New York City. Some days we were getting sunburned in the park. Other days brought wind, chill, and rain - all of which I was very unprepared for. On one particularly drizzly day we decided to seek shelter in the Met. We didn't have much time in the museum, but even forty-five minutes was enough to become completely awestruck within its halls. I am usually an old-world kind of girl, but on this occasion I found myself really drawn to the photography. The works of Diane Arbus were particularly engaging, but what was just as interesting as her art was how the photographer was perceived by her own subjects. One woman, who was pictured in the nude said:


"Forget that we thought we were naked. I was never really naked until that picture - do you see what I mean? She took pictures of the thoughts, feelings, things you might not even know existed inside yourself. It wasn't that she made you look one way or another, she made you look exactly like yourself. Horribly yourself, whoever you were. Is that beauty? If you can accept it, I think it might be." 



Words to ponder.

Love.

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