November 2011
1 post
Our Words are Our Own
The hard wooden curves of a sailboat frame are beautiful. Ocean surf crashing on a rock beach over thousands of years and grinding those stones down to sand, is beautiful. A fleck of blood hanging on a boys eyelid after a fight, glimmering with the promise that wounds will heal, is beautiful.
None of those things are distinctly feminine or girly. The word beautiful has no gender unless the person...