Beauty Makes Me Happy — Why?

I can’t seem to walk past the construction zone that is my upstairs bathroom without going inside and just standing there, looking at it.

The bathroom is not done yet, but already it is beautiful.

The walls around the new shower are covered to the ceiling with handmade tiles from Pratt and Larson in Portland — soft yellow on the back wall, pale moss on the sides.

The floor is Hustle from Sonoma Tilemakers here in California. The tiles are made with 98% recycled pre-consumer glass in a gentle turquoise color.

The combination is to my eye — smashing.

It’s beautiful in there.

I’ve got things to do. My mighty to-do list awaits me. Yet here I am again, stopped in my tracks, taking in this beautiful new bathroom in progress.

Same thing with the Peggy Sue iris I brought in from the front yard the other day and put on the dining room table.

Later, my dinner in front of me, there I sat, fork in hand, fixated on those peachy, exquisitely ruffled blossoms.

Beauty Makes Me Happy — Why?

What is it about beauty that causes me to loose myself in it?

Researchers have found that contemplating beauty — works of art in a museum — causes an increase in blood flow to the brain. Others speculate that beauty is like chocolate — it sets off an endorphin storm. We are wired to glom on to beauty, we are told, just as we brake for cookies or sex.

Does that mean we’re all nerve bundles and body chemistry responding the way Pavlov’s dog responds to the dinner bell?

Maybe. But I don’t feel like Pavlov’s dog as I stand there long minutes in the presence of beauty, taking it in.

More remodeling stories at “Yay! Our Garden Remodel Is Done. Come Take a Look.”  Also, “Five Things I Like About My Kitchen.”