“Esthetical Manifesto: To Myself” by RL Greenfield
Essays, LiteratureI love certain movies, a few selected novels, irresistible paintings, songs, compositions, poems, houses, cars & other objects & shapes made & orchestrated by homo ludens. But I am sure the most neglected & unrecognized & honored & admired & worshipped of all works of art is the human body & all that it contains & exudes. I note there are certain women, very few in number, who are possessed of a genius at ‘dressing.’ This is high art in my estimation. I met a pure & wondrous dresser about 11 years ago hereabouts. Every piece of clothing she put on her body was perfect in texture & color & cut. And it lay on her body with such perfection no masterpiece painting on a wall in any gallery could ever match it. She had that divine touch one almost never encounters of a day or year or lifetime. She was gifted in the divine art of clothing her self. It began to grow on me. How almost all of us throw away our lives in secondary & tertiary tastes— and worse. How we throw clothes on our body dash a wash cloth across the face a bit of cologne & leave the house wearing mediocre tennis shoes any old shirt that will fit & the pair of trousers that is available and vastly unsatisfactory. We say an artist is that being who labors at perfecting the work of art. But we forget to gaze into the mirror as Baudelaire instructed us to perfect our own bodies. It was shameful to the human species the way I walked around in public today. Soft long-sleeved light green shirt with light gray slacks & a small-checked black & gray sports jacket—-sloppily arranged. Far far far from esthetic satisfaction, let alone perfection. And that is the least of it. I am twelve pounds overweight from my frequent consumption of un-nourishing food and far too much of it. I do not run diligently enough nor perform calisthenics with sufficient vigor to overcome my body’s accumulated ennui & angst & its torpor. I drink too little fresh invigorating water. Dr. Johnson was seized by terror he says for his indolence. I too am lazy of intellect and find it difficult to think brave new thoughts to bring this despairing world into robust view. No, instead I bitch to my friends or under my breath about the hell we have all come to inherit under this regime of darkness and avarice. I have yet to arrive in that beautiful and wondrous country of unadulterated Feng Shui. Buy no thing that is not necessary & beautiful. Have no item in your home that is not necessary & beautiful. Eat nothing that is not necessary to your health & at same time delicious. Have no item of clothing in your possession that you do not love! There is time. There is always time to perfect our one & only life. To me it is no contest: The greatest work of art in the world is the female body. But I might begin to resurrect my own life by appreciating (increasing the value of) my own appearance and my bodily essence on the planet earth. There is no time like the present in which to begin a Revolution in beauty & art & morality. Only a fool believes a poem or novel or symphony is more important than the texture and structure the esthetics and morality of the human body-soul.