There is a row of lock-up garages near me. When I walk by each dirty door I could get depressed because they are all green and black with mould and spores and to be honest, the whole construction is a blot on the landscape.
Why doesn't each owner clean his or her own door(s)? Why are they painted the worst colour of all for showing dirt? (White: I besmirch your good and pure association.)
Why couldn't they be red or black or attacked by rabid street artists with a Banksy aesthetic?
But then I pause, stop, look a moment longer, and yes. Yes I can see it. A face in the dirt. A face visible through the machinations of this lock-up door.
The padlocks on either side are the exhausted, non-plussed eyes and the handle in the middle is a nose and the keyhole is the cute, slightly open mouth.
Can you see it?
Now that I've seen, it I can't not see it. Inside that garage door there is a personality trying to get out. The pattern of scratches at the bottom only add to this notion for me. It could be dogs or hail or children off the leash.But in my head, it isn't any of those things.
Look beyond the obvious. Seek and you shall discover. You never know what you might find.
See more faces in things.