Written by Annamária ©


09 January 2011

Saints among us, sinners in church


Mothers. Offering their breasts to us, feeding us. They're saints, we think. But where's the demarcation between a saint and a sinner? Is there any border-line? Can anyone define it? Or it's just our imagination's creature and a socially created schema, where everyone is categorized in. Demarcation. Weak and strong. Woman and man. Good and bad. We're trying to slur lines, no differences, no polarizing. But the whore who wears a cross in her neck or the whore who prays for enfranchisement every night. You see the differences. Sham and affliction. No way to get rid of them. What is worst, lie to others or lie to yourself? What's this all in fashion? Where are the perfection- and beauty-theories? They've lost. They're locked in Pandora's box. Now, this is the time of androgynous faces and boy-like shapes. Honestly, I don't mind it. Even if we want we can have furry legs. So again, no demarcation. Freedom of the body. Comparing ancient/decades-back and present beauty ideals are pointless, so stop mourning over it. They wasn't beautier, they were different. Let the times change and turn the icons as their century requires.
Madonna, Safo by Mengin 1867, Tati Cotliar, Pandora by Jules Joseph Lefebvre 1869

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