(no subject)
The first one broke it. The second made it whole again with found items. A child piecing together a busted toy. A little tape here, staple sutures there. Whip stitched with rusting wires and dressed in dirty cloth. It was the work of love, a passion project. Something someone put themselves into, and it's only the cynic in me who fails to see the artwork and craftsmanship. Focused on its in imperfection, but who made perfect so perfect? Maybe broken is better.