I've often thought about that cliche. Is that which I hold to be beautiful only truly beautiful to me, and possibly no one else? Is something elevated to me only so to me. Maybe it would be better stated: is beauty thus subjective that it would be no different than a delusion in favor of something or someone? In a world of fragmented beauties, it seems as though every instance of declared beauty would be a singular psychotic episode. To say that something, or someone, is beautiful is to say that one's perception of reality is like a thumbprint, unique, and is so in that things, or person's, favor. If two men were to agree that a woman is beautiful, she could likely not be so, rather it would likelier be that those two men were just having the same psychotic episode simultaneously.
Of course, that's silly. I have found myself agreeing with others that person X (always a woman) is beautiful. Likewise, I have heard others agreeing about someone else. If I knew that person they thought to be beautiful and if they knew the person I thought beautiful, we'd likely agree. But why? Do we all share the same eyes? Or could beauty be something outside of the beholder? ...maybe on the beautiful person herself? Thus, a grape-filled vineyard ready for the press, a woman's lovely, large brown eyes, a lush garden, or a piece of Bach well played are all beautiful, and are so without my opinion.
