I would greatly appreciate it if someone could comment on the grammar and word usage in the text below. The task was to write an article for a popular magazine which should discuss whether we all can agree on what beauty is and whether we all can come up with any standards of it. I'm really worried about the sentence in blue as I'm not familiar with such a structure.
Thank you very much for your efforts.
Every time I hear the word ďbeautyĒ, my mind gets flooded with associations. Though being enormously diverse on the outside, all of them seem to revolve around the same idea. However, when it comes to its verbalization, my mind raises the white flag, ending up with trite definitions from revered dictionaries and encyclopedias. Yes, being beautiful means being pleasant to our six senses, but I firmly believe it is more than that. Isnít it something that speaks to our hearts as well?
I could never understand a friend of mine who, by her late twenties, has become a true abstract art connoisseur. What seems to be a mockery produced by an inflamed mind to me, appears to be beautiful and deeply inspiring to my friend. Just as she takes unaccountable pleasure in gazing at motley mixtures of curves and weird steel wire installations, so too I get my share of inspiration from oriental music. How can you listen to that rubbish, asks my mom. Itís just ugly! Oh no, it is not. It fills me with joy and happiness. It speaks directly to my heart. And I do find it overwhelmingly beautiful.
While mulling over the nature of beauty, another question arises. Can we all agree on what beauty is? The examples above may suggest that the Ďmissioní is impossible, with the reasons for that lying in our nature itself. Before a person arrives at a decision on whether something (or someone) is beautiful or not, new information has to be evaluated according to a personís own standards and outlook, which, just like fingerprints, are quite unique. As models of perceiving information may differ greatly too, our verdicts may turn out to be utterly contrasting. To put it another way, the Beauty for one person might well be the Beast for another Ė itís just a matter of taste.
So, itís obvious to see that beauty is not a universal language as some people claim. The experiment performed by the Washington Post, where a violin virtuoso played the instrument at a metro station in the rush hour, has demonstratively proved it. However beautiful the music was, the majority of the passengers remained indifferent to it. Shall we assume they have lost the ability to recognize beauty? In my view, that would be too erroneous a conclusion. They simply didnít speak the violinistís language.
And, just like any language, beauty is many-sided. It can be explicit and obscure, spellbinding and shocking, ephemeral and long-lasting. But no matter how many aspects it may have, beauty is a purely subjective thing. Hardly ever will we be able to agree on any standards for it, unless we end up living in a robotized world.