Everyone knows what musk is, so you would think. Marco Polo apparently knew enough to spot a grain of it here and there on the forest floor.
Why do I spend so much time in search of beauty, its myriad forms? Do we require the rituals of costume? I tend to think of mine as recreation. When I participate, I feel better even though I'm alone, knowing I am the same. When I'm listless, it all seems shallow.
Constantly praised for her beautiful voice, an excellent singer was inspired to hear that "It's not always about being beautiful." It is, but it isn't. For example, what strangeness of beauty is putting bat poo on your eyes and going all lengths to smell like the funk of a deer's navel & whale's bile?
"Collecting 'Anbar-gris" ->
What is the role of Art or Beauty in this practical game of survival? Sexual selection. A landscape painting that will hold the gaze of time itself has the most protein per square mile. So why is everyone on these vegetarian, low-fat diets when life is a fine cocktail of oils.
Hafiz would agree - what is human life without our precious animal products? Blood from the heart, marinating in the stomach, musk caught up by the breeze from wispy hairline locks.
