
I was struck by the strange beauty of these two photographs. Both had been forgotten. They’re just small glimpses of the world that were stored in my computer; I don’t recall where or when I took them.
What is perfection? To be perfect is to exactly match a defined ideal. So it’s illuminating that in a world where almost nothing is considered perfect, beauty can be seen everywhere. At every moment, throughout life. Age, wear, a wrinkle, a missing petal: and the beauty persists, flourishes. For beauty to be seen, just open eyes. Open them wide. This world’s beauty is even more simple than a lifeless ideal. And more substantial.

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