People are strange….

“You’re too tall”. “You’re too short”. “You’re too fat”. “You’re too skinny”. You’re too……old, young, smart, stupid, your hair is the wrong color, your hair is too long/short, you have tattoos, you have piercings, you don’t wear the right clothes, you don’t live in the right neighborhood, you should eat organic, you should shop American, your house is too small, your house is too big, you are still single, you don’t have children, you have too many children……….

Think of all of the negative ideas that are being thrown at us by the universe. All of the ways that our own, denigrating society is trying to tell us that we aren’t good enough. That we are somehow failures because we are “too” something as demonstrated in paragraph number one (hmmm, too verbose? 🙂 ) Think of the fact that, not only are we as adults being subjected to these ridiculous standards, but so are our children, and the younger members of our society. And where exactly did these standards come from? Some superficially impossible standards that have set us all up for failure based on the idea that all women should be 25, 5’10” and 120 pounds? Some insulated society that can’t handle the view of non-airbrushed people, and who feel that natural aging is “unfortunate”?

True beauty is up to individual interpretation. And as such, it is the same as art; it is truly in the eye of the beholder. So for those who find the only beautiful people to be those who are sculpted and surgically altered to the point of Barbie-doll perfection, that is all just fine and dandy. But that ain’t what I think of in terms of art or beauty. I live in Northern Nevada. I am surrounded by what I consider beauty (I’m fortunate though; I have found something beautiful about everywhere I’ve lived, from east coast to west, out of the U.S. and within it). I am surrounded by mountains, and trees, and stars, and sunrises and sunsets, and beautiful lakes and gorgeous snow in the winter.

But when it comes to art, I feel even more blessed. Because everyone in my life, every person I meet, is a work of art. All of those things alluded to in the first paragraph, all of those “too”s, just make that art even more spectacular. Because no two pieces of this art are alike, and that in itself is something stunningly beautiful.

My nieces and I had a discussion a few days ago about the word “strange”. Because they were under the impression that this was somehow a negative word. But, how is that true? “Strange” means “unique”, and different, and of a singular sensation. Yes, each of them is “strange”, just as I am as well, and as everyone in this world is. And there is no such universal insult as “too strange”, ever. All of us are just the right amount of our own strange!

With all of the negative rumblings we receive from the universe, love is rebellion; self-love is even more rebellious, happiness is a revolution—and I’ve always been a bit of a deviant!

To misquote the great Jim Morrison: People are strange, when you’re a stranger; faces are lovely, and we’re never alone! 🙂

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