Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Yes, this phrase is cliché and often times it’s man’s attempt at consoling themselves with a decision they’ve made that others may not agree with, but I’m discovering more about it. Lisa and I went to a “paint your own pottery” place this afternoon and I gained perspective into the true nature of beauty, and the eyes of its beholder.

Today was “Customer Appreciation” day and thus there were no studio fees. Combine this with the fact that it is spring break here in Provo and the studio quickly became a madhouse of mothers desperate to occupy their children’s free time with character building and creativity inducing activities. Lisa and I got there early enough to not have to wait for a table fortunately. As we enter we were greeted and instructed on finding something we wanted to paint and how to not make a mess, and then we were free to let the creative juices flow. As I stared blankly at the wall of pitchers, bowls, plates, mugs, and assorted ceramic animals, I realized I had no idea what I was going to do. I was overwhelmed by the many outlets in which i could express myself and what was important to me. Colors, shapes, sizes. I often find myself stymied by what could potentially be the “best” piece of work I could create.

After much deliberation, Lisa and I both settled on bowls, mostly for their more practical use. Then I had to decide what was going to be immortalized on this bowl. As I began sketching on the paper table cover, a mother with 4 daughters was put at the same table with us. I think by this point I had decided what I was going to put on my bowl, but I was still not convinced it was the best I could do. What happened right after this made me realize I needed to do what I loved and love it because I came from me and not because I want to impress someone else. The 4 girls went right to work on their plates and bowls, without any thought to exactly how it would end up. They combined colors that clashed horrifically, they mixed and matched stamps, but they were proud and happy of what they made. It took me a bit to recognize it, but watching them relieved me of my stress of perfection for something that was really only going to be important to me in the end.

By the time I finished, I looked at my bowl and smiled and thought about the little girls that sat at our table and helped me find the true beauty in my work. Not beautiful because someone said so or because it complied with the rules of art, but because I loved it and it meant spending an afternoon with Lisa and celebrating our time together.

Now, this is mostly just an internal perspective of the physical aspect of things, be it nature or society in general. Most of it is beguiling and alluring, but like i said, it’s in the eye of the beholder.

Update: Pictures of said bowl.