Beautiful or not.

Growing up I did not think I was beautiful or handsome. Being Beautiful meant you were popular. liked, loved by everyone, usually selected for tasks, jobs or leadership even if they were necessarily not the best option.

A lot of smaller primary schools around the local area fed into this bigger high school. I remember on one of my first days there, we were being picked into 2 teams for an Australian rules football match in a sports class. The teachers picked two Captains then let the Captains pick their teams one person at a time. Because we all came from different smaller primary schools the captains, generally unknown to each other, we were picking on appearances.

I felt bad to be picked near last and then only when one of my old class mate had a word in one of the captains ear. Not liking this sad feeling seemed to motivate me no end and I probably played one of the best games I have every had.

This appearance selection situation seemed to happen a few times in my working life too. I would show up on a new job and usually get the hardest or worst possible task as maybe the middle management thought I looked dumb. Instead of whinging or complaining, I would usually just get fired up, get the job done. More often than not when the big boss showed up, I seemed to have made the middle management look dumb as they had usually taken the easier job and had made less progress.

So all that to say I seem to see beauty as something that is more rare and different. Not just the pleasing on the eye satisfaction. The photos I selected for this post are some of the rare and beautiful creatures @consciouscat and I have seen on our travels.