Real Beauty
From Proust, Times Rediscovered:
I
knew how often I had been unable to give my attention to things or to
people, whom afterwards, once their image had been presented to me in
solitude by an artist, I would have gone leagues and risked death to
rediscover.
Quite true. So often I see a tree, or some clouds, which I know are better than anything I’ll see in a painting, yet I do not, or maybe even cannot pause to appreciate the beauty.