The imperfect has a certain charm to it. A rugged brick wall, faded paint, buildings that have visible defects – not because no one cares, but because time has done its thing and left its mark. It stands as a testimony to the history of the building, as well as to the people who have shared their lives within its walls. It has not been discarded and demolished, but continues to fulfill a certain function, decade after decade.
The picture above shows a place to rest and eat your lunch after a long mountain hike. The building is maintained by a enamored local, who named it Heaven.
Architecture that survives generations of humans, must of course be maintained, in an endless refining process. When refurbished it shines in its old glory, before it is subjected to the strain time, and is marked, much as a wrinkled old face. As little as we stop loving a person because time marks body and face, do we stop caring about our old buildings. If the building has character enough to survive the first two or three generations without being abandoned, demolished or neglected, it has proven that it is viable.