Do you think you're special? Well of course you are, my dear reader.
But do you look at the world, in all its detail, and see things in ways that only you can see? Don't you wish that everyone else could understand this reality?
You do? Well then, welcome to the world of the creative.
Perhaps you've made an arse of yourself, like I have numerous times, because of your temperament. I was the annoying twat at your party rewinding the tape to play you that "sublime chord change". I was the same git that didn't get shagged that night incidentally.
Like you, I've always been curiously attracted to small things. Things like wardrobe corners, hidden smiles, briefcase handles and elbows.
And so I wonder - is there an absolute quality to beauty? A qualia perhaps, or some irreducible experience of the sublime?
The skeptic in me tells me not, as beauty cannot not exist outwith its own context. Yet there is some commonality to what we find lovely. In this sense we understand beauty as art;
Expertise: The artist or artisan has some skill that we don't have. We admire how she creates a work that makes us feel things.
Pleasure: The object of our interest is viewed as a source of pleasure in and of itself. It can exists simply for this purpose.
Style: Perhaps this is relativistic, as styles do change. However, ideas of beauty evolve. The fittest ideas survive, whilst non profitable notions of beauty wither. And so we enter the realms of calendars and pornography...
Imitation: We are monkeys. We learn through imitation. The very essence of humanity is our ability to copy. Yet our ability is imperfect; we copy self consciously and therefore adapt techniques to meet our own individual needs. We synthesise, and in doing so, make things new and sometimes beautiful.
Metaphor: We have a wonderful linguistic ability to ascribe meaning to abstract constructs. This to me, is the root of art, and what we find beautiful.
Now, if meaning can be transmitted, then it has every chance of being perceived as being beautiful.
And yes, I've had a drink tonight. I've squeezed out this rambling missive under the influence of numerous beers. Friday evenings can be interesting in our office ;)
So, all I've got to do now is convince Miche that I find her beautiful, despite my beer goggles, and that I've been drunkenly contemplating aesthetic philosophy.
Something tells me I won't be getting a shag...