Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
The wall is not smooth.
It was never meant to be.
Layers of plaster, stone, and repair sit one atop another—each one a response to survival rather than design. What was broken was not erased. It was covered, held, and carried forward.
In Bangladesh, walls like this are everywhere. They are not decorative. They are practical, patient, and honest. They record time without intention—hands that patched, weather that pressed, years that insisted on staying.
This image is not about decay.
It is about endurance.
The marks you see are not damage; they are evidence. Evidence that something stood long enough to be altered. Long enough to be needed again. (8×10)
The wall is not smooth.
It was never meant to be.
Layers of plaster, stone, and repair sit one atop another—each one a response to survival rather than design. What was broken was not erased. It was covered, held, and carried forward.
In Bangladesh, walls like this are everywhere. They are not decorative. They are practical, patient, and honest. They record time without intention—hands that patched, weather that pressed, years that insisted on staying.
This image is not about decay.
It is about endurance.
The marks you see are not damage; they are evidence. Evidence that something stood long enough to be altered. Long enough to be needed again. (8×10)