You can see the needle if you look closely where I’m stitching the lace to the paper. I’ll be lucky not to add red to the piece, red from my blood after I’ve stabbed myself with the needle! The 22″x30″ paper piece has my grandfather Sweet’s poem printed in the background and the cat and flowers is a continuation of working with the short story by my mother “Woman Who Were Not Born Beautiful”. The short story is about a woman and her daughter, the woman ravishingly beautiful and the daughter doesn’t feel herself to be beautiful. Basically it’s about how much you have to work at beauty and how it really is an attitude that comes from within. Here is the beginning of the short story, I should note—it is fiction. I plan on making a blurb book this summer….
Women Who Were Not Born Beautiful
by Carla Chlouber
There are women who were not born beautiful but who have, through their own willed efforts, convinced everyone that they are indeed great beauties. When such women are deprived of the aura created by the force of their will, they may appear quite plain (perhaps this explains those beauties who are not photogenic). But in her presence, the power of her own overwhelming need for us to believe convinces us again of her loveliness.
I have read of identical twin girls, separated at birth, who developed in strikingly different ways. One became a scholar, highly regarded by her students and colleagues, but not considered particularly attractive. She was slightly overweight, dressed conservatively, and wore little makeup.
In contrast, her twin became one of the highest paid call girls in Las Vegas. She was so beautiful that people would stare at her in stores or at restaurants, and she was frequently asked if she was an actress or showgirl.
The most interesting fact about this case is that neither twin had her face or figure altered by accident or surgery, and as adults they had essentially the same features. The difference was entirely in how they perceived themselves. One saw herself as unattractive, while the other believed that she was so desirable that men would pay great sums of money for the pleasures of her company.
I cite this case because it is similar to that of my mother and myself. My mother is considered quite beautiful, while, although I resemble her in many ways, I have always been thought plain.
As a child, I first became aware of the fact that my mother was in some way not an ordinary woman when other children began telling me how pretty she was. Then, I took these comments as a tribute; and I was, I believe, quite proud of my mother.
And the story continues……..