A woman and a flower. Both far from common " "prettiness", both asymmetrical and slightly worn out, lets be honest. I have learnt to look at myself (and others) with authentic curiosity and to appreciate changes I see, instead of comparing and judging.
I already said that before, but still like to think about it when my mind starts complaining about another grey hair:
getting older is a privilege, which many people have not been offered. So enjoy it.
My aesthetics drift every day more towards celebrating imperfection and it's beauty. Little stains and cracks, dried plants with broken leaves and unique maps of human bodies.
Maybe it's just a phase, maybe it's a new me :)
It must be also the overload of images of "perfect" humans in social media, that made my mind tired.