Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Whenever I think about buying something brand new I always visualize what it will look like in five to seven years.  I think about rust and fading, scratches and oozing glue from unskilled but good intentioned repairs. What I discover in those thoughts sometimes makes me smile and sometimes makes me sad because I realize that I know I will love whatever it is more after time has left it's mark than I do now. There is a beauty in the damage.

I love damaged people too.  The pared down wisdom of someone who has been through tragedy draws me like the proverbial moth to a flame. I want to listen to the stories they are loathe to tell and bathe in the neurotic need to hide pain behind a smile or a laugh.  Undercurrents of experience line every word or artistic expression. There's something comfortable about damaged people.  A feeling of home.

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