I wonder what proportion of sighted people can see beauty. And what proportion of blind people can hear beauty, in music, in the sound of a waterfall or in a young child’s laughter.
Is beauty in the eye of the beholder? Or the ear? Or the nerve endings of the fingers, perhaps? Or is it in the brain? Or maybe its nature and location defy definition?
We seem so determined to pin everything down, even where, quite often, the specimen keeps wriggling out of our grasp.