I learned to love the broken things...
Are you a bit broken, stained? Or a bit rusted, scratched or no longer in bloom? You had a lack of love from most people?
Or you are mostly ignored, hidden away?
Chances are I have made an image of you. Because sometimes you are worth being noticed. Because you have traces of use of abuse. Had a life, a story.
And by taking an closer look that story can be read. And there I discoverd vibrant patterns, complex textures, esthetics, indepedence. In you.
And there I learned to love the broken things.
