Aesthetic line compositions and Beauty – On contemplating femininity

Contemplating a feminine female being moves special forces in a man’s will. This flow of energy will move him on grounds of carnal desires, as well as through an innate drive to preserve his species.  If she radiates beauty in his eyes, his composure might not be able to contain his movements.

Beauty is a power. It makes us weak and it makes us strong. But beauty is only beauty when shared.

I sat for a further cigar study in one of my preferred smoke lounges. For the last three months I have been smoking this specific cigar and for the last three weeks preparing to write a review about it. As I had my notes on my lab, an attractive woman entered the lounge. It is by no means unusual that women walk in and buy cigars. What surprised me was to see her suddenly in front of me with an unlit cigar. She stood and began organizing her belongings and I read that she would pack the cigar and leave. As she sat and began to smoke I commented how unusual that is to me. Her dry “What?” led me to believe that my comment – worse yet – my decision to address her was out of place. However, it is indeed quite seldom that a woman walks into a smoke lounge by herself in the middle of the day and lights up a cigar.

I concur – an attractive woman will draw my attention, because she is a woman, but the intention behind an extended gesture could be purely based on friendliness and nothing else.

A university professor joined us shortly afterwards and we exchanged looks of acknowledgement, before several sentences formed the tendency of a conversation. With cigars, we were at work, but inclined to enjoy the fact we were sitting together. A third man joined us, filling the last seat available in the corner setting. His corporeal language and face expressions were as distanced as those of the lady who still smoked her cigar, often with closed eyes, though I did watch her more than once showing interest through her eye movements.

Because of connecting points, the professor and I shared much, even with the seemingly distant individuals in front of us.

Her time came. She put her cigar down, gathered her belongings and gave us a gentle, beautiful, very mild smile – sincere but very mild. This is how I read her, but that perception was not mine alone. With looks and short phrases we all acknowledged each other and she left our corner. The professor and I had our eyes meet, a bit confused about the split messages she let us read: Unreachable, and though, pleased to have smoked with you, Gentlemen.

The civilization in us, the animal in us, the disturbed in us, the happiness in us, everything we are tells me that beauty is only when shared. As she sat in front of us, detached to any acknowledgement to our co-existence, her face was just a composition of aesthetically pleasing lines. Once she showed a willingness to share through her friendly departure, she was beauty.

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