Simple Beauty

    There is nothing simple about the beauty that is woman. She stands like a pillar, her elegant figure holding up all that the eye needs finds appealing. She embodies countless generations of selection as the pinnacle of form, as evolution would have it at this day and age. She is a wonder in her own right simply by being who she is.
    The complexity of beauty stems from natural urges of man mixed with a healthy dose of social evolution mixed in to complicate and over extravagant it. The shape of her body hinges on the success of child baring and attracting a mate, but beauty as an idea is more than skin deep. Industry and commercial value have almost abused the idea past point of no return, yet the class and delicate body of woman holds up to even this ruthless depiction. She is stronger than we can know, and her intelligence and wit serve her well in a unrelenting world of judgment.
    The shapes and colors than can make up the female face are as fare and wide a range as the people behind them. The eyes settled in like two gems in flesh seemingly molded out of clay into near perfection, with unnecessary hair draped across this exquisite collection of carbon and water.
    What is perhaps most beautiful about beauty is choice. The choice to present herself as she sees fit, to cut/style her hair as she wants it or a tone of dress that implies so much of her character. In equal standing of the choices of woman and the way she presents herself is the choice of man. No two men are the same there for no two ideas of perfect beauty are the same. The fair skinned, petite bodied, red haired, frame of woman with desecrate and subtle curves that I find so entrancing is a far cry from the blond haired, blue eyed, ample bodied vision most have. The woman of my choice, however is not just a physical description, she craters the surface of existence that is around her with her mind, as well as body.