La Gioconda
He drew secrets behind the mist of fears,
Brought sfumato to sweep across her tears.
Wrestling the world to come and understand
The line between the real and the uncertain.
For the eyes still quietly pondering,
The details of Mona Lisa’s longing.
Imperfection,
Colored into legend.
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La Gioconda, meaning the merry one, is another name for one of the most iconic figures in art history: Mona Lisa.
The poem "La Gioconda" is inspired by the universal image of women, who are often expected by the outside world to always “appear”: graceful, sweet, and smiling. Expression becomes a performance, one that must constantly be maintained.
This idea resonates with the mystery surrounding the Mona Lisa. As Giorgio Vasari once wrote, there is a suggestion of a smile in her eyes, her lips, and the corners of her mouth, an unfathomable expression that, for centuries, has stirred endless interpretations and imagination.
Through the poem “La Gioconda”, that smile becomes more than just a symbol of beauty. It becomes a representation of the paradox within womanhood itself: the quiet pressure of how one should appear.
Imperfection is also part of how this painting has been read—beginning with the absence of eyebrows to the hazy, unfinished background. Yet it is precisely through these imperfections that Mona Lisa became a legend: a masterpiece that endures because it holds more questions than answers.
To women, I hope the line “Imperfection, colored into legend” becomes something they continue to teach themselves. Because remembering alone can be difficult, when the world so often speaks louder about what is lacking than what is already enough. We are taught early on to chase an image, rather than accept ourselves as we are. So may they not just remember it, but turn it into a mantra: that imperfection is not the end of beauty, but the beginning of meaning.
Yanma Hidayah
Wed 28th May 2025 15:34
Thank you, Uilleam!
I feel like the grotesque in her face forces us to linger, to feel discomfort and maybe that’s where meaning begins, too: in what feels not quite “right.”
Uilleam, I’ve been trying to understand imperfection from the perspective of a higher purpose, at least according to what I believe. I’m a Muslim, and in the Qur'an—our holy book—Surah At-Tin (95:4) says, “Indeed, We created humans in the best form.”
So perhaps what appears to be imperfection isn’t a flaw in the design, but an invitation to look deeper. In the end, the unsettling parts of ourselves and our lives might become the very ground where meaning grows—where values are formed.
And maybe that’s how we begin to fill the “inner report” we’ll one day present before God.
Of course, this comes from my faith, and as my mother always reminds me, “everyone holds different beliefs.” I share this not to preach, but in the hope that my perspective might offer something to those who need it—not as a truth to be accepted, but simply as something to consider. And for that, I’m grateful you resonated with it.