Tag Archives: Beauty

Ceres

Here is a poem for the season ~ like a zaftig ode to Autumn: bountiful, curvaceous, round, pumpkiny. A succulent feast!  

by Lesleigh Owen  © 2006

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Autumn’s smooth, puffy bronze cheeks,
 salty sweet chin
 Gently creaking sounds of awakening,
 Bones groaning like the cracking
 of a rusty cellar door,
 Autumn, with her dusty-wheat-scented breaths,
 whose round, curving, gently drooping body
 polishes the world into
 smooth, gray contours

 Her eyes,
 like newly-discovered amber
 with never-popped air bubbles,
 warm the room like vanilla-scented candlelight
 as she envelops the world in her
 spicy rolls of flesh

 Summer’s not the time for me:
 Sunlight that casts angular shadows in wide-open mouths
 No more feeling the scrape of sand
 sloughing over my dense curves,
 trying to whittle down my folds of flesh
 into smooth, plastic expanses of cookie cutter skin
 No more poppy-scented laughs
 that chime like dissonant dinner bells
 and abrade my delicate ears

 Bright white light
 Take away my sight
 Thin, hungry, sweaty bodies,
 arms shaking, smiles flaking, biceps quaking
 Frozen in flashes of sunlight on teeth
 False idols of perfection
 that die before they can ever
 live a full-bodied life

Autumn, that sweet, round, wise, dangerous old woman
 arrives slyly in her orange, Cinderella-like pumpkin –
 as round and majestic as people –
 tossing dried, crackling, russet leaves like confetti or candy:
“Throw me something, grandmother!”

Autumn: Happy, crisp, nutmeg, rounded season
 My mouth opens and closes in happy little O’s
 over words like “orange” and “clove,”
 circular, bouncing words,
 round, rich, and warm.
 Leaves bend and snap beneath my ponderous weight
 while the scent of earth weaves like cinnamon
 through my sinuses.

 Yawning, indolent light puffs gently through
 twisted branches and desiccated leaves,
 shining golden orange
 like heaps of buttered, cinnamon-scented, steaming mashed yams
 or lightly-oiled strings of spaghetti squash

 Walking this cooling, linear stretch of sidewalk,
 I am tempted to bite into the toothy, yellow winds
 that crease around my body like well-starched sheets,
 to jump high and far,
 passing through the low-hanging laundry
 snapping in the sky,
 jump miles away from all scents of limestone and exhaust,
 to throw my gray, woolen poncho over the clouds
 and roll in the decaying scent of leaves
 that stick to my face
 like allspice on a baker’s hands

 I can finally breathe beneath this nubby grayness
 that stretches like a fluffy headscarf
 over the dome of the sky.

 Seasonal bounty,
 Harvest time, time for rest
 Shelving our immature dreams
 And discovering reverence for plenty

 At night, I eat ginger carrot soup for supper
 and slurp pumpkin custard from heirloom dishes
 My squash-shaped body, –
 honored for its softness,
 its abundance,
 its life-affirming heaviness –
 snuggles into the scratchy red blanket
 crocheted for me by my mother
 while I bounce children and tradition
 on my plump, arthritic knees
 and sip cocoa and warm candlelight.

 Fatness and autumn:
 Round, pumpkiny, bountiful:
 A sensual feast

Fatness and autumn, –
lush and earth-scented as mounds of warm flesh –
dance together in gentle spirals
 like leaves in a windstorm

 Come evening time, Autumn and I sit
 like old friends,
cackling on the front porch,
 bellies bouncing together
 while heavy, purple mugs of chamomile tea
 warm our loving, generous,
 fleshy hands.

Autumn Woman ~ Tali Marotz

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You Don’t Have To Love Me Because I’m Fat

Something’s been nagging at me lately.

The sentiment that plus-size women should automatically be respected and adored by every person in the universe simply because they are big, bold and beautiful. 

Sound odd coming from me?

As I encounter websites, blogs and social networking groups highlighting full-figured women, I’m amazed and confused at how many seem to DEMAND this kind of attention, as though females of a plump nature are supreme beings, deserving of everyone’s exaltation.

Of course we all want to be adored. But regardless of weight, ethnicity, intelligence, sexual orientation or wealth, no one falls into a supreme being category. Part of the beautiful complexity of human nature is that we possess individual thoughts, propensities and desires ~ oftentimes quite unique from others. Where one man might feel sexual attraction towards a thin woman with small breasts, his neighbor might prefer ladies who are overweight with large breasts. To each his own.

What causes attraction cannot be placed into a single equation ~ we are all unique and driven by different factors. And although we may be influenced by our environment and our companions, who we are and what ignites our senses remains tied to the inner fabric of our individual existence.

I believe that everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion ~ so long as it’s based on intelligence, not ignorance.

Although I am happy in my own skin and relishing life as a full-figured woman, I by no means expect every person I encounter to appreciate my figure. That would be extremely presumptuous and vain of me, would it not? The challenge is ensuring that I am not negatively judged by my outward appearance ~ that I am awarded respect and the chance to express my qualities on equal ground with others. As with any human being of a different religion, ethnicity or body type, I strive for tolerance and acceptance. I strive for equality because I am no less capable.

I expect respect from others because I offer it, not because I feel I am entitled to it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Love the skin you are in. Embrace your glorious curves and know that your positive attitude will flow from your inner core like a fountain, touching others.

Sustain your integrity and graciously accept love from others.

But never DEMAND adoration, ladies. For it is a gift ~ not an obligation. ♥

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Filed under A Touch of Inspiration, Musings and Thoughts, Visual Delights

Who, Indeed?

via 'radicalselfacceptance'

A truth that can be altered. 

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The Evolution of Attraction

This satiric drawing caught my eye awhile back as I was browsing the internet for zaftig images. 

Let’s take a moment to contemplate it, shall we…?  🙂

What do you see?

To me, the message presented here is both humorous and poignant: Man, in his most primitive state, once worshipped the abundant figure of the Venus of Willendorf. Now, in his most gluttonous state, man bows before the figure of a pencil-thin, svelte woman.

The theory seems quite logical, yes? The primitive man adored the Venus figure because she represented a voluptuous and fruitful life that was lacking in his own personal existence. Now, the modern-day man adores the slender figure because he’s binged on the marrow of life and over-indulged in its various forms of gluttony.

Perhaps this drawing depicts the “opposites attract” theory. Or, perhaps it demonstrates how our perceptions ~ what we consider pleasing to the senses and desirable ~ are ever-evolving, depending on our current circumstances and surroundings. Societal trends are rarely, if ever, constant, yet for most full-figured women (and men as well), it can be difficult to envision an existence where the Venus of Willendorf figure is once more worshipped (or, at the very least, considered acceptable.) 

Despite the evolution curve, when it comes to attraction and coupling, it is best left up to the individual to disregard current trends and delve deeper into his or her own soul to inquire: where do my true desires lay ~ in the current fad of human existence? Or somewhere more personal, where sincere and honest thoughts can thrive without societal influence?

*Despite all, Beauty should remain in the eye of the beholder* 

What is your perception? I welcome your feedback.

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Covering The Curves

For the majority of my formative years, and for quite a long time beyond that, I went through life a shy, self-conscious girl – frequently frowning upon my appearance, glancing at my reflection with contempt, tugging at my clothing to keep it from revealing too much. I couldn’t bear to see the slightest inclination of excess body fat on my figure. A ripple here, a roll there, made me feel awkward and unattractive.  

According to my mother, when I was quite young my pediatrician informed her that she should probably avoid feeding me “too many potatoes.” It was as though I had been born with some unknown propensity to become overweight, despite the fact that no one in my family was obese. Someone, somewhere, must have carried the gene and passed it on to me. To this day, I’m still not sure who that culprit is… 

Needless to say, as I entered into puberty (at an absurdly early age – which requires an entirely separate blog posting to properly describe) I became self-conscious about my physical development: my weight, my bosom, my child-bearing hips. I attempted to hide the female body that had been bestowed upon me by dressing in loose-fitting shirts that not only hid any signs of cleavage but also covered up any evidence of having hips. My entire mid-section became an embarrassment to me; covering it up helped to maintain some semblance of  self-esteem, although not completely, and certainly not for prolonged periods of time.

What was I thinking… ?

There I was, a vibrant, beautiful young woman with a winning smile and really great assets. And yet, when I looked at myself in the mirror, I simply couldn’t see beyond that extra, unwanted flesh. 

The sad part, the tragedy of it all, is that it took me 30 years to overcome such inclinations to hide myself.  Looking back on these photos from younger days, I’m amazed and saddened at my insistence to cover the curves. I was thinner back then than I am now! And yet, for decades, I couldn’t find the capacity to appreciate my ultra-feminine body.  

Now, I shall forever proclaim, “Peel away the layers of cloaking fabric and be liberated!”

Having come to that pivotal midway-point in life that everyone eventually reaches, I find myself  at a crossroads where I can either A.) embrace myself where I’m at or B.) invest in belly tucks and face-lifts. Personally, I choose to embrace myself where I’m at ~ curves, bosom, hips et al.

After all… rhinoplasty is really quite out of my budget…

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A Woman’s Worth

“When a woman has owned her passionate nature, allowing love to flood her heart, her thoughts grow wild and fierce and beautiful.  Her juices flow.  Her heart expands.  She has thrown off crutch and compromise.  She has glimpsed the enchanted kingdom, the vast and magical realms of the goodness that lies within her.  Here, all things are transformed.  And there is a purpose to this: that the world might be mothered back to a great and glorious state.  When a woman conceives her true self, a miracle occurs and life around her begins again.”

~Marianne Williamson

 

Flamenco Woman ~ Richard Young

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A Painting Inspires A Conversation

Earlier today, I had an interesting chat with an old acquaintance of mine. He and I have not seen each other in almost 20 years. Recently, we befriended one another on that popular social media site that everyone belongs to, and over the course of a few months briefly conversed in chats online that were, for the most part, very topical: “How have you been? What have you been up to?”

This afternoon, however, was refreshingly different. 

At the moment, my profile picture on this popular social media site is of a painting by German artist Caroline Westerhout, entitled ‘Jalousy’.

What is portrayed in this enchanting piece? A young woman peacefully asleep in an armchair? Or a scantily-clothed temptress? 

The dychotomy of the subject is captivating ~ innocence and sensuality all rolled into one.

Needless to say, I am in love with this painting, on many levels. It captured my affection the moment I saw it.

Apparently, I am not the only one. This afternoon, my male friend appeared  online to inquire if that was me in the painting. I replied, “I wish! I would LOVE for someone to paint me.” Which is true ~ I think it would be the ultimate compliment, the ultimate perpetuity of my existence. And if the painting was done in colorful Klimt-like style such as the above-mentioned ‘Jalousy’, I’d be eternally enamored. 

In response to this, my male friend, kind as he is, offered to paint me… with finger paints. All over. Which started a very different kind of conversation.

(I should insert here that as a woman who is very comfortable with her sexuality, I am not easily embarrassed or reserved when suggestive comments are made. Flirting and conversations regarding carnal possibilities are occasionally embraced with amicability, so long as the participating parties remain on a positive, healthy level and ideas are mutually shared.)

Finger paints across the flesh…? Well, why not…?

Cool and moist to begin with, dry and taut on the skin in the end…

But I digress.

In continuation, my male friend proceeded to inform me that, although he’d been attracted to me back in my more youthful, thinner days (and believe me, I was never thin), he was even more  attracted to me now ~ because of my extra curviness. Apparently, he appreciates “having something to hold onto” and has many close friends who agree that a full-figure form is preferable.

It was extremely pleasing to hear. And I hear it more often than one might think.

Although the theory is far from prevalent, and the media shuns it, I am consistently presented with uplifting stories and opinions which solidify my belief that a full-figured body is, indeed, desirable.   

Kudos to my online friend for reaffirming it.  

And kudos to Caroline Westerhout for creating such a beautiful work of art which inspired a delightful conversation.

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