Some
of
the most beautiful people we see
are wild and free, Rovers of the city,
Sociable Weavers I call them.
This blog is about them.
It
portrays their awkwardness. From the little details that paint them exceptional
to their quirkiness reflecting their reality.
Often
we ask ourselves; "Who are these that walk bold and strange on the surface of
our land, the streets of our city and now emerging in our own households?".
They
are our brothers and sisters, our neighbours.
Intrigued
by their sense of invention. A part of us is curious to interact with their
weirdness, their attractive aesthetics. Bodies laced in art dressed in the
kind of bravery we envy.
A
center of
nature in each of us, that which intrigues our thoughts to envision the beauty
we seen in the world around us, relatable to a past of identity,
a time of distinct uniqueness.
The character we wore said who we were; our style
resembled our aura.
These weavers are of a memory, a connection that
reincarnates the verve that which reminisce upon our days of authentic selves.
Our
forefathers embraced it, the art of adornment. Earlobes extensively stretched
to speak tribal messages, bodies artistically drawn in shapes and symbols of a
relevant period in time, aesthetics characterising personalities. Our
sociable Weavers revisit a time in this period , boldly and unconventionally
loud about their style statements. Modernising the art of style to complement
the new age. With their tattoos, overstated piercings, interesting aesthetics
and quirky hairdos. They portray a new kind of old beauty.
They
are amazingly attractive, we are familiar with their presence and
this is a
platform where
we can relate with them.
