Did I stop? No. It just urged me on to find ways to bring out the beauty in imperfection. The peeling, faded paint is much more interesting than shiny, unblemished surfaces. The foregone beauty is still there, in a different form, like crow’s feet on an old woman’s smiling face. Signs of a life well lived.
I know, it’s a matter of opinion. Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder, they say. My eyes see the colours and the forms of things, the balance and harmony. The history, and no-one can take that away from them as long as the walls stand up right.