Wabi-sabi is about taking pleasure in the imperfect. it acknowledges three simple realities: “nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect."

But love doesn’t work that way. It turns out that no amount of caution, of calculation, even embracing the depths of vulnerability can protect you from that awful ache. You still have to leave the quiet room and go out into the world where it doesn’t come down to grand gestures after all but instead the mundane and continual daily choices, the repetitive conviction with which you choose someone.

Obsession is repetitive; passion is generative.

Feelings are site-specific.