I've been watching a lot of America's Next Top Model this weekend. I realized very quickly that many of the girls on the show are not that attractive in person, and a lot of "beauty" has to do with makeup and photography and poses. The ideas of beauty on that show, and in most of our lives, are so distorted as to be harmful. "That's a horrible picture," "She needs to lose ten pounds," "I'm not beautiful." COME ON! I hear stuff like that enough from women in real life who are perfectly lovely, and that's ludicrous enough. But if you're on that show, is it not clear that you've done better than literally thousands of other women? I not only feel sad for them, I feel personally insulted and angry. If they think such awful things about themselves, what does that mean they think about most women? Let me add the disclaimer that most of the comments come from the contestants, and usually about themselves and not other contestants. The show's judges are usually very positive, and when they do say things about weight or height (like 5'7" is short! Hello!), it's infrequent and they sort of do it in a way that acknowledges the silliness of it, like, "That's show biz, kid." They run it, for the most part, in a professional way that discusses the modeling industry more than beauty per se. Tyra even said a few times that models' beauty is special because it's debatable, like they have a feature that's not conventionally considered beautiful. Interesting stuff to ponder, especially when you add the neverending moral quandaries brought up by the House marathon three channels over. TV is, when handled well by a mature mind, such a good teacher sometimes.

In much sunnier news, my trip to Seagrove last week was phenomenal. Those potters just keep getting more endearing. So endearing that I wish the research part could last forever and never lead to the writing part. In my first ever writing about Seagrove back in the fall, I started with a visit there when I was seven or so; all I remember from that visit is lots of animals. Everywhere we went, all kinds of pets, or so it seemed at seven. I realized last trip that it's still true! One-eyed dog, sneaky chickens, dog licking my toes, cat who couldn't care less. Almost every potter had some sweet pet. I also got to walk a grass labyrinth (well, walked in the right way and out the lazy way, which felt surprisingly transgressive), learn a little bit about my digital voice recorder, hang out with my granddaddy, discuss the resemblance of the Seagrove situation to a Christopher Guest movie (that's when I know someone's a keeper, when they get Guest), and get a lot of fruitful information while having fun.

Back at home, I've been enjoying the warm-but-not-hot weather, checking out a room for rent at the beach, cleaning off and riding my bike for the first time in months, going for long walks on the beach. This is the life, I tell ya. Next week I'm going to start writing and reading at the library, because while I stand by my statement that TV is a good teacher, and it's fine as background noise for mindless typing, it's a not-so-good accompanist to real work. Hooray for easy solutions! And libraries!