E x I L e S

Beauty

Myles knew he would never win. He knew it right away. He also knew his efforts were futile against those who had come prepared. Still, he tried - while keeping in mind that the result of the game which he was about to face was already decided even before he was made aware it existed.

"I have come with a representation of the feelings inside me, and the nature Art has played in my life," Girl A said.

"I have come with the strokes which represent the steps it took for me to be here," Boy A said.

"The blackness here represents the period of time when I lost myself, but I learned to find myself," Girl B said.

"The swirls show the confusion in my mind as I try to decide what is morally right and morally wrong in this ever-changing environment," Boy B said.

Thus, the list went on.

After some time, Myles stood up and walked in front of those who would judge the purpose of his being at the venue.

"What makes a rose beautiful? Rather, what makes loving a rose beautiful?"

He straightened his shirt and read the words aloud. Those words which he had so carefully thought about and written on paper. After a pause - one that would give time for the judges to think - he resumed reading.

"That which is loving it, regardless of the thorns and imperfections it has. 'Tis loving the rose while knowing the thorns which put up a meaningless and futile attempt continue to defend that which it treasures the most."

Myles stopped and looked up at the judges. They asked him to show his work.
He showed it with calm acceptance of the results - those which were to be deliberated on.

On the paper were the exact same words he read aloud. Nothing more, nothing less.

More time passed, and the judges called out names.

"In first place, Girl A."
"In second place, Boy D."
"In third place, Boy A."

Myles knew it. He knew this would happen. Yet, he still tried.

He looked at the artwork he had worked on, the poem about the rose, for the art competition. The beauty with which he regarded his poem was deemed ordinary in front of those with stunning visual artworks.

Despite the effort put into thinking about it, despite the trials and errors he went through. Useless. Because the judges were acquaintances of the students. Because they already knew those who were capable and decided them to be the winners even before seeing their artworks. Because they are known to be so.

Because those who are not known to be so, must find another place, another skill, another time - their own, perfect place - where, just by preference, they shall be recognized.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.