Skin Deep
Beauty is an interesting subject, and the word itself carries a lot.
In its purest sense, beauty can be mystical, even transcendent, something undeniable to anyone with eyes and an open heart. It can heal, awaken awe, and transform. Nature and creative expression offer it to us freely.
Yet beauty can also mirror pain. Not beauty itself, but the pursuit, the desire to possess it, earn it, or become it can leave us in a void.
Cultural ideals make beauty feel like a moving target, elusive and full of contradiction.
I’ve had my own seasons of standing before the mirror, criticizing, comparing, measuring myself against impossible standards, and feeling the ache of not being “enough.” This isn’t self-pity, it’s simply a fact, And I know I’m not alone.
Some people seem to wear beauty like a badge, but even that can feel hollow, like a mask shaped by the same hunger to be seen, approved of, and validated.
I teach yoga, breathwork, alignment, and self-compassion. I’ve spent years inviting others to soften their gaze, yet I too, sometimes fall into the trap. This isn’t only about appearance, also about the inner terrane, our thoughts, feelings, interpretations. What lives within us inevitably shapes how we perceive beauty, and how we are perceived.
So for now, I’ve decided to place my old perceptions on the altar and look deeper, literally and figuratively.
Pulchritude
The word itself means physical beauty, elegance, appeal. Ironically, its sound is clumsy, almost unattractive.
Pulchritude is a reminder that beauty doesn’t always arrive in a pretty package (although that is not its intent). and because pulchritude is culturally defined, it shifts with time and place. It’s more an evolving opinion than a universal truth.
Since beauty is so subjective, perhaps we should look at the body on its own terms.
The Integumentary System
Skin, hair, nails, and the glands that live among them have no concern for fashion or approval. Each is a living record of our health, habits, and environment. They form our first line of defense and are the first thing the world sees.
The skin is more than a covering, it is a boundary between self and world. Beneath the surface, countless processes work to protect, sense, and regulate.
The integumentary system shields us from harm, lets us feel texture and temperature, balances fluids, helps regulate temprature, and even works with the sun to produce vitamin D.
When nourished, hydrated, and cared for, skin radiates a beauty that has nothing to do with approval, and everything to do with vitality.
From Body to Yoga to Art
The integumentary system is a perfect metaphor for beauty worth keeping, vibrant, resilient, and aligned with true purpose.
Yoga mirrors these same qualities. Just as skin protects, senses, and regulates the body, yoga offers protection, awareness, and balance for the inner life. Each pose, breath, and mudra nourishes us from the inside out, reminding the body of its purpose. In this space, vitality is generaed, the mind steadies, and the gaze softens, and beauty begins to shine through naturally.
In my own yoga practice, I’ve been diving deep into breath work which is enormously profound. I have also been working through the fascial system, the intricate web of connective tissue that wraps, binds, and supports every structure in the body. Years of habit, injury, and even emotional holding have caused fascial adhesions and knots, which have compromised alignment, cut off flow, and in subtle ways, put a dimmer my own vitality.
Lately, I’ve been working to gently unwind these patterns, softening adhesions, creating more space in the joints, and restoring symmetry.
This isn’t just about posture, I’ve noticed that when the fascia is free and hydrated, circulation improves, the skin receives more nourishment, and my face itself seems less tired, more alive. It’s a reminder that beauty can be the visible ripple of healing happening far beneath the surface.
With space and flow creative energy, becomes potent. The same qualities that make a body healthy, presence, purpose, care, are the ones that make art meaningful.
Whether through painting, sculpture, music, photography, or tending a garden, we bring beauty into the world by protecting what’s essential, sensing what’s true, and refining our expression until it glows.
When I paint, I think of each layer as a kind of skin, translucent in places, opaque in others, each one holding history and memory. I lay down colors, shapes, and textures the way the body renews its skin cells, sometimes quickly and sometimes slowly, but always with intention, each one building on what came before.
Some layers remain visible, others get hidden, but they all contribute to the final expression, just as our inner layers of thought, experience, and emotion shape how the world sees us.
The finished painting, for me, is like the surface of the skin: what’s visible is beautiful not because it’s perfect, but because it holds the depth of everything within it, the spirit, the story, the process.
Beauty is a vibrant energy, and making space for it is never shallow. In my view, it’s vital, and can reach every aspect of life.
So whether it’s through the skin, the yoga mat, or the canvas, the aim holds true for all, protect what is essential, sense what is true and regulate with care, so that what emerges is vibrant, and alive in its wholeness.
This is the type of beauty that is eternal.