If beauty is symmetry, let’s not stop at a layman’s surface definition. The goddess wouldn’t. Mathematicians define it as a type of invariance, claim it’s a “property that something does not change under a set of transformations.” So it is, with us. Our surface geometries rumple and scuff, but, down deeper than either we or the world can see, our essential property is symmetry: invariant in love, unchanging in grace. The infinite transformations of the material world? An open set, whose match point’s won, invariably, by beauty.
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