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.

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