Expression Marks

It occurs to me how wonderful and how awful expression marks can be.  In a face they show all of the person's past at once - the moment he or she smiles or frowns the joys and agonies of life are all there on display.  In a frame they betray the artist's hand - how light and delicate, how firm and insistent, how tentative, how bold.

I look at myself too often to critique.  No amount of retinol or alpha hydroxy can undo the childhood taunts, the teenage tears, the torment of young adulthood, the terrors, the trials, the tests and the truths of life.  And why should I wish it to be so?  In the expression marks on other faces, I find grace and beauty, strength of will if not of body any longer.  Plump, firm skin gone thin now on foreheads and shins; freckles now looming, fearful question marks on backs of hands or arms; eyes more deeply set, faded, shaded, soft.  The point of my pen can never write such a wonderful work so perfectly punctuated.