We are touched more by the imperfect, impermanent and incomplete, than by the flawless. It is the slight flaws, quirks, anomalies, asymmetry, the changes, departure from the conventional (angularity)… that brings personality, flavor, character – to things, and to people – makes them unique, adds the poetry.
We appreciate perfection, but fall in love with personality.
The things that seem most beautiful to us are those that encompass in them serenity but also some melancholy; peace as well as the tug of longing; contentment, but with the poignancy of some emptiness – some space for hope, expectation. We can never fully capture in words or express satisfactorily how, or why, we are moved by that which we find most beautiful.
The beauty lies perhaps in the inconspicuous and overlooked detail, it is hidden and ephemeral, non repeatable… perfect, and yet not.
A thought to ponder as we drive for process, framework, repeatability in everything? Some things best left a tad uncontrolled; driven by instinct, not process?