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Paint splattered boldy onto a canvas is considered a paragon of creative genius by some; others call it graffiti. But what is so interesting about arbitrary particles of pigment, asymmetrically distributed, without form or structure? Those who have the eye of appreciation would say that the imperfect chaos of misaligned color has a tantalizing impact on the human soul - each splatter of paint is a like a human flaw, and together they form an intricate web of how we interact. Because we all realize that each of us are flawed, a standard of perfection seems remote and distant. But what grabs our attention, what seizes our eyes, ears and hearts, is the degree of perseverance that we demonstrate in order to overcome our flaws. Perfection is but, an illusory and distant tale, while the complexity of flaws is and arresting and concrete reality. Life ought to be lived for the appreciation of flaws, not in the misery of the lack of perfection.
xoxo,
christiara.
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