top of page

cosmética maria Gruppe

Öffentlich·72 Mitglieder

Reinvent Yourself With Color Me Beautiful: Four...

We are THE personal color authority, bringing you a color cosmetics assortment that is sure to enhance your own personal color palette. Color Me Beautiful is the first cosmetic company to offer unique, Seasonal Boutiques which enable you to shop conveniently within your season, thereby eliminating costly mistakes in color choices and missed opportunities.

Reinvent Yourself with Color Me Beautiful: Four...


My favorite adventures thus far have been our optional field trip to Positano with everyone and to Switzerland and France with my mom over fall break. I love the beach, so being able to go to Positano along the Amalfi Coast was awesome. This place is like a fairytale with its narrow and winding cobblestone walkways and its colorful buildings all set up on the hill. Anna Caitlyn and I were able to rent a small dingy one day, which was so worth the risk. Although we chartered a boat one morning, this dingy ride was exhilarating just cruising through the rough waters and getting up close and personal with the massive yachts and enormous cliffs.

The 5PC Standard Height Dining Set is going to look great in your dining room! This dining set includes a table and four side chairs. The entire set features a two tone finish, that instantly adds pizzazz to your home. The wire brush finish adds a perfect, finishing touch. The transitional colors of this set will blend beautifully with any existing decor you might have. The side chairs are classic in design, thanks to their cross-back style. Add this dining set to your home today for a look that will have you eating every meal at the table!

This week\u2019s books are extraordinary; all three are already on my Best of 2023 List. The two essay collections, in particular, absolutely stunned me. They both reinvent queer memoir; they are both about curiosity and the world-opening possibilities of making queer connections. They feel spiritually connected. Reading them one after the other was a gift. I started thinking about the idea of sacred texts while listening to Hijab Butch Blues, and I was still thinking about it when I opened How Far the Light Reaches. How do you make a sacred text? What\u2019s the alchemic process? What magic, what work, what mystery goes into it? What makes a thing sacred? Lamya H and Sabrina Imbler and the characters in The New Life are all grappling with these beautiful questions. So am I.

So much of this book is about faith as a framework for exploration. It\u2019s about how you can find what you need in a sacred text if you listen to yourself. It\u2019s about the study of sacred texts as a revolutionary praxis. At heart, I think, it\u2019s a book of questions, and maybe that\u2019s just another word for sacred text. The Quran that Lamya H studies and loves and wrestles with and discusses with their queer Muslim friends, that grounds them and surprises them and angers them\u2014it\u2019s not sacred simply because it\u2019s the guiding text of Islam. They make it sacred. It changes them, and they change it, and in relationship, it becomes sacred. A sacred text is not a prescriptive book of ethics on how to live, but a praxis of questioning, of continual, daily opening.

A friend once remarked to me that he was inclined toward the French Impressionistsbecause that's what the world he lived in looked like before he got glasses.In Impressionists Side by Side: Their Friendships, Rivalries, and ArtisticExchanges by Barbara Ehlrich Wright (Knopf, $65 hard), a less-blurredview exhaustively examines the various relationships between Degas, Manet,Monet, Cassatt, Pissarro, Morisot, Renoir, and Cézanne. More thanjust contemporaries, these artists had intense professional and personalinteractions that were reflected in their individual works, sometime withremarkable clarity and influence. Author Wright is the Adjunct Professorof Art History at Tufts University, so the tone is unsurprisingly academicbut it is also rich in ideas and theories, and Wright's ability to weavethe intimate nature of these artists' creative minds into their public offeringsis fascinating. The hundreds of illustrations and paintings, full-colorreproductions, and little-seen pencil sketches make for endless viewingand the text provides layers of thought.

I wished that material swatches had been included here, so luxuriousis Classic Fabrics by Henrietta Spencer-Churchill (Rizzoli, $24.95hard). More than 200 color photographs flow throughout this handsome volumebring to mind phrases like "gracious living" and "the richreally are different from you and I." Indeed, the author's pedigreeaffords her the credentials to regale us with page after page of scrumptiousfabrics in every aspect of decorating possible with just the right air ofprivilege. From the rich brocades and velvets chosen for upper-class bedroomsto the fine points of embroidery -- distinguishing between forms of needlework,for example -- Spencer-Churchill deftly avoids the kind of snobby text inwhich you automatically hum the theme from Masterpiece Theatre, andinstead suggests the impetuous classical suite from those DeBeers Diamondcommercials. I kept touching the pages, hoping the cool, colorful slicknesswould turn to the soft nap of velveteen but alas, it did not.

Leave it to National Geographic to put it all into perspective:Humans are one of about 1.75 million species that have been identifiedby science. There -- now worry about who takes out the garbage!Actually that sobering sentence is from the introduction of The CompanyWe Keep: America's Endangered Species by Douglas H. Chadwick and JoelSartore (National Geographic Society, $27.50 hard) and with typically seductiveNational Geographic style it sucked me into its verdant and sometimesstartling photographs of threatened birds, endangered plant life, rare insects,and human scourge and plunder. Its non-political but clearly concerned textmakes it a thoughtful read, as issues pertaining to extinction are delineatedfrom the notion of survival of the fittest. It's such a cliché tosay this, but it really is funny how an enlargement of a microscopic leafcan so easily instill a sense of humility. From the bird's eye to the manin the moon -- or at least those who went to the moon -- that same speck-in-the-universefeeling persists throughout Orbit: NASA Astronauts Photograph the Earthby Jay Apt, Michael Helfert, and Justin Wilkinson (National Geographic Society,$40 hard). 1994 Endeavour astronaut Jay Apt collaborated with geographerJustin Wilkinson and UT alumnus Michael Helfert, chief scientist for 18Space Shuttle missions, on this visually stunning offering. The swirlingeyes of typhoons and hurricanes, coastlines that resemble colors of liquidpaint marbled together, islands that might be mushroom caps in a field,patchwork quilts of farmland, forest land looking like microchip circuitry...Orbit's ability to tickle the imagination is endless.

Eight-nine glass plates survived after Bellocq's death; they are painstakinglyreproduced here full-size in a gentle sepia style. Many were never intendedfor display or exhibit, he smashed through faces in some plates, leavingonly a few dozen faceless lush-hipped nudes for posterity. What makes Bellocqa better book is not only Sontag's thoughtful introduction but a numberof 1969 interviews with some New Orleans residents who had known the photographer,including a woman named Adele, one of his subjects. In the beginning, therewas the electric guitar. Okay, so the phrase doesn't go like that. ClassicGuitars of the '50s: The Electric Guitar and the Musical Revolution of the'50s edited by Tony Bacon (Miller-Freeman Press, $29.95 hard) makesa good case, though, for the string instrument as an icon of the times.Like their series of other books on instruments, Miller-Freeman doesn'tjust lovingly display collectible instruments in more than 200 color photosand four fold-out spreads, it offers memorabilia, trivia, magazine articles,and advertisements, plus text by 15 notable writers in a lush tribute tothe guitar.

There's an inherent irony to taking the culture of the streets and givingit to the masses. Surfers, Soulies Skinheads & Skaters: SubculturalStyle from the Forties to the Nineties by Amy de la Haye and CathieDingwall, photographs by Danny McGrath (Overlook Press, $40 hard) sort ofruns into that problem. Here, they painstakingly and impressive researchedstreet style clothing from the Forties to the present, then reproduced itin photographs that too often end up competing with the page design forthe eye's attention. It's also hard to tell exactly what's going on withthe authors. The initial statement in the book asserts that style beginsin the underground and moves up, to be cleaned up and mass-produced forpublic consumption, causing street style to have to reinvent itself. Butwhile I can appreciate the effort that went into the staging and stylingof the photographs, I never get any sense of the organic nature of how streetstyle evolves. Perhaps that's because the basic component of street styleis rebellion, and while that has always been easy to represent, it's almostimpossible to fake. This book is too in love with the idea of itself.

I want to talk about women today. So naturally I'm going to start by talking about men -- not because they're more important than women, but because they're not. Back in June I had the pleasure of viewing an early version of Mel Gibson's new movie, "The Passion of Christ." It's really a wonderful film. I hope all of you will see it and bring others to see it -- although I need to warn you that it's not for young children. It's too real and too violent. But it's also very moving. I saw it with five other men, just a small group in a small room. When the movie ended, it took at least a minute for anybody to say anything. The emotions were so strong that none of us could come up with the right words. Now as a bishop, I talk about Jesus a lot, so I began to wonder why this one film had affected me so deeply. I began to notice that other men who saw the film had the same experience. I've known a lot of faithful Catholic men in my life. But I know a lot more who don't know how to articulate their faith, and many others who simply delegate the "religion thing" off to their wives and daughters. "The Passion of Christ" does something unusual to men. Some can't get the film out of their head for weeks after seeing it. And now I think I know why. There are two reasons. A lot of us grow up with a mental picture of Jesus that's really very strange. It doesn't correspond to his reality at all. Some of us tend to imagine Jesus as either an unearthly miracle-maker or a vaguely effeminate holy man. We don't know how to resolve who Christ is. We believe that Jesus is fully God and fully man. We say that publicly at every Sunday Mass in the Creed. But we have nothing to look at to help us see what that means. I think one reason men remember "The Passion of Christ" is because Jim Caviezel -- who gives just an astonishing performance -- shows us Jesus as someone who is absolutely real, both in the divinity of his person, and in the humanity of his nature, friendships and suffering. And that manliness of Jesus, that heroism, is something men can respect and love and want to follow. But of course, manliness and heroism don't exist in a vacuum. They're shaped by many things, but especially by examples of courage. They're formed by a daily, intimate experience of love, with all the little moments of joy and sorrow, teasing, correction and encouragement that are part of real life. And that's the second reason why men remember "The Passion of Christ." Not every man has a wife or sisters, but almost every man has the memory of his mother's unconditional love. Every man knows in his heart that the best of what he is comes through his parents, and especially from his mother. And what Maya Morgenstern shows us so movingly as Mary in "The Passion of Christ" is how the love of a mother touched the life of Jesus Christ. Jesus shared exactly the same moments of maternal tenderness and humor that every son thrives on. In our piety sometimes we tend to think of Mary as a "means to an end," the vehicle God used to bring his son into the world. But God chose Mary not to "use" her like an instrument, but because he loved her. He saw in her the beauty and character of a woman who would freely and lovingly shape his son into the man he needed to be. We can't understand Jesus outside the love of his mother, any more than we can understand ourselves outside the experience of our families. When we listen to the Sermon of Jesus on the Mount -- "Blessed are you who are poor; the kingdom of God is yours" (Luke 6:20) -- we're also hearing Mary: "My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my savior ... [for] he has lifted up the lowly; the hungry he has filled with good things, while the rich he has sent away empty" (Luke 1:46-47, 52-53). Out of the faith and the flesh of Mary, the woman, God fashions the Redeemer of the world. Without Mary, there is no story of redemption. Without Mary, the woman of faith, there is no Jesus, the Son of God. Over the last few months, I've wondered many times why a film like "The Passion of Christ" would trigger so much controversy even before it gets to the theaters. Maybe you've heard about it in the media. One allegation against the film is anti-Semitism, which is a very serious sin. The Jewish community has good reason to always be alert for it. As Catholics, we need to understand and respect that concern. And we need to do everything we can to resist any prejudice against the Jewish people. But having seen the film, I don't think anything in "The Passion of Christ" qualifies as anti-Semitism. I think that secular hostility to the film comes from something deeper and more inarticulate than any worries about religious prejudice. We might even track the source of that hostility to one particular moment in the film that every Christian already knows, whether we've seen the movie or not. Near the very end of "The Passion of Christ," soldiers take the body of Jesus down from the cross. They place him in the arms of his Mother. It's an image we all remember from the 13th Station of the Cross, and from Michelangelo's great sculpture, the Pietà. And we're left with a picture of a man who -- out of love -- has accepted betrayal, beatings, humiliation and death on the cross; and a woman who -- out of love -- has stayed with him as he suffered and died, and who now cradles her dead son in her arms, in the same way she held him as an infant. I think we find the greatness of Mary right here, in this moment. She's lost everything. She's an image of humiliation and powerlessness. But she's also a picture of what Job meant when he said, "Though [God] slay me, yet will I trust in him" (Job 13:15). Mary's kind of faith is unreasonable. Mary's kind of love is too deep, too strong and too unselfish -- and it offends the pride of the modern world. The reason the secular world hates films like "The Passion of Christ" is because they persuade the heart with the logic of love. The reason the secular world seeks to reinvent or reinterpret Mary is because she's dangerous. She's the model of mature human character -- a human being who co-creates a new world not through power, but through unselfish love, faith in God, and the rejection of power. That kind of witness goes against the spirit that dominates our world -- the immaturity and selfishness in our personal consumption, our politics and our workplaces, and even within our families. André Malraux once asked a priest to name the single biggest lesson he had learned from hearing confessions. Without skipping a heartbeat the priest said, "There are no grown-up people." The struggle for power is what the modern world is all about. It really doesn't take very long to go from Francis Bacon saying, "Knowledge is power"; to Napoleon Bonaparte saying, "I love power. But I love it as an artist. I love it as a musician loves his violin, to draw on its sounds and chords and harmonies"; to Josef Stalin saying, "One death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic." Just read the newspapers. The result of our immaturity and selfishness at every level of American daily life is a competition that breeds an anger that breeds violence -- the violence of open warfare; of religious terrorism; of unjust wages and unjust immigration policies; of simply putting our own comfort above the needs of others; the violence of abuse and infidelity between spouses; and even the polite violence of the language we use to smooth over the killing of new life. On Oct. 8, the Associated Press reported that "a new combination of blood tests and ultrasound can detect fetuses with Down syndrome sooner, and more accurately, than standard U.S. screening tests, offering women more peace of mind and more time to decide whether to end a pregnancy." The article quoted one researcher as saying that, "The absolute biggest advantage is that this allows women to make private decisions" before they're visibly pregnant. Peace of mind and the power to decide are good things, but not if the price tag is a human life. Children with Down syndrome are not a mistake or a failure. Imagining them that way only reveals our own lack of humanity. A friend of mine who's the mother of a son with a disability likes to say that the only difference between German doctors in the 1930s and some of our own medical establishment today is that now we have better PR firms. The hostility to human weakness, the anger at human imperfection, is exactly the same now, as it was then. Children with Down syndrome are children of God. They can live happy and fruitful lives. They give far more love back to their parents than they ever take. And because they belong first to God, killing them can never be a "private decision." It always has wider consequences -- beginning with the grief of the mother. It's the woman who bears the spiritual cost of an abortion. Not the doctor, not the researcher, and too often, not even the father. That's the lie in sanitized language like "peace of mind" and "private decision." The mother always bears the cost, because every mother is always a part of her child. I've spoken a lot, over the years, about our culture of selfishness -- the unrest that forces us to keep feeding our appetites to prove that we control the world around us -- but it bears repeating here, because our immaturity and self-absorption have created four big problems. The first problem is our inability to reason. Reasoning takes time. It needs a vocabulary of ideas. Reasoning forces us to test and compare competing arguments. But the America we live in today is a culture built on marketing, and marketing works in just the opposite way. Marketing feeds our desires and emotions, and it suppresses critical thought, because thinking gets in the way of buying the product or the message. That's why marketing is tied so tightly to images -- like fast cars on an empty road. Images work on our appetites, quickly and very effectively, at the subconscious level. Here's a second problem: our inability to remember. The historian Christopher Lasch once said that Americans are a people stranded in the present moment. We like nostalgia, because it's a kind of entertainment. But we really don't like history because the past -- as it really happened -- burdens us with all sorts of unfinished business. It's a pain in the neck. History imposes obligations on the present, but Americans prefer to think that we invent ourselves, and that anything is possible. The result is that Americans usually have a very poor grasp of history, and we learn too little, too late, from the lessons of the past. The third problem is our inability to imagine and hope.


Willkommen in der Gruppe! Hier können sich Mitglieder austau...
Gruppenseite: Groups_SingleGroup
bottom of page