A few years ago while I was working as the editor of a newspaper, a young lady asked me if I would meet her after work for a drink. She said she had some business to discuss with me.
Beyond that, possibly after reading this piece you have a greater sense of knowing why I admit that I do not understand women.
Since I was a college boy, my definition of art always has been: Art is the creation of beauty. Subjective it might be; narrow it might be, but do I care? One guess.
A beautiful face is a beautiful face, no doubt. But, that is an accident of birth and has nothing to do with who or what a person really is -- as are many of the attributes we individually possess.
When I look at a woman (or for a woman), I look for one who strives to create beauty. Chauvinistic as it may sound, this I do believe is the role of a woman on planet Earth. As I pointed out somewhere or other a few days ago, both of my former wives were rather accomplished artists, primarily as painters in oils and watercolors.
This is why two variations of one of the most beautiful compositions on planet Earth are posted here. I have used the song -- Johann Pachelbel's Canon in D -- before on my page, including the first variation here now. I put the first up again because it is mostly women performing it -- creating beauty -- which, in turn, makes them oh so beautiful and perfect to me. I used the second piece because the photographs accompanying it add to the melancholy of my moment.