In Defense of Beauty
- Karenina Fabrizzi
- May 18
- 3 min read
Lately, I have been thinking a great deal about the importance of protecting beauty and harmony in our daily lives.
Not beauty in a superficial sense, but beauty as nourishment, this is in defense of beauty.
Beauty as something deeply connected to our emotional well-being, our inner balance, and ultimately, our humanity.
We live in a world that is becoming increasingly loud. Everything moves faster. We consume more information than ever before. Our attention is fragmented constantly by screens, notifications, algorithms, endless scrolling, artificial images, artificial conversations, artificial urgency.
And slowly, without even realizing it, we drift away from the things that once grounded us.
From silence.
From craftsmanship.From slowness.From presence.From human touch.
I believe that surrounding ourselves with beauty is not a luxury anymore. It is becoming a necessity.
The spaces we inhabit, the objects we choose, the fabrics we touch, the food we eat, the artworks we live with — all of these things shape our emotional landscape more than we think.
They affect the way we breathe, the way we think, the way we relate to ourselves and to others.
A handmade ceramic bowl carries something entirely different from an industrial object made by a machine. A painting created by another human being contains layers of emotion, memory, imperfection, sensitivity, time, and intention.
Even food prepared with care by someone carries an energy that cannot be replicated by mass production.
Human beings leave traces of themselves in what they create.
And I think we are slowly losing contact with this truth.
When I was younger, even human interaction itself felt deeper. In the 1980s, if a company wanted to meet another company, people would take a plane, travel to another country, sit together, eat together, discover another culture, experience another city. There was effort involved. Presence involved. Human experience involved.
Today, many of those exchanges happen through screens.
Of course, technology has brought extraordinary advances, and I am not against progress. But I do think we must ask ourselves what we are sacrificing in exchange for convenience.
We are becoming increasingly disconnected from the physical world and from the emotional depth that comes with it.
Many people are exhausted all the time. We work through phones and laptops all day, and by evening we are too tired to cook, too tired to meet, too tired to create. So we order industrial food, consume fast entertainment, and continue moving through systems designed for efficiency rather than meaning.
But human beings were not built only for efficiency.
We need ritual.We need texture.We need beauty.We need emotional resonance.We need objects that remind us that another human hand existed before ours touched them.
I think this is why art matters so much today.
Not only paintings, but craftsmanship in every form. Handmade textiles. Ceramics. Writing. Cooking. Gardening. Music. Architecture. Anything created slowly and intentionally by another human being becomes almost sacred in an era dominated by automation.
Protecting beauty is not simply about aesthetics. It is about protecting what keeps us emotionally alive.
Because beauty has the power to slow us down. To reconnect us to ourselves. To remind us that life is not only productivity and survival, but also feeling, contemplation, emotion, poetry, tenderness.
Maybe protecting beauty today is, in some way, protecting the human soul itself.
And perhaps the more we choose things made with care, emotion, sensitivity, and presence, the more we will remember how to live coherently again.
How to breathe more deeply. How to feel connected again — not only to beauty, but to each other.
In a world becoming increasingly artificial, choosing beauty may become one of the most human acts left.
Comments