Looking at the photo by @martinelch, I see memories and flashes, age, old abandon. Window revealing the scenery and greenery. Webs cans, old paint bottles, dirt, rust, and colors - imprints of a colorful and intentional life well spent. I see emotions plastered across these objects.
I have mixed feelings. A little nauseated by the level of disorientation, a part of me feels sad and pity for the reckless abandon. Perhaps something tragic had to happen for this space to have this preserved state of emotion in time. I feel the emotions attached to each object holds a history and tells a story. One that may forever remain in the confines of those walls.
In my head is glorious chaos. No,
I'm neither an angel nor a pure soul. I'm bare, raw, and contaminated. Yet my madness is so intricately crafted and in all of my rusty glory, I'm a classic mess.
Yes, I'm an old and rusty soul but come, into me. I can clear a spot just for you. Come and see the world through my dusty lenses, ignore the filth for a moment and focus on the beauty, the passion, and flair it ignites in you. You see, the world is art and art doesn't have to be perfect. There are no rules to it.
Let us just walk, wherever our feet take us to, well settle. Let's dip our hands in paint, wherever we touch, we'll leave imprints. Come, my dear, let us create our unfiltered world.
But do not come to me with any act of saving or redemption. This mayhem is my comfort zone and no, this is not a mess. These are my masterpiece.