Reflections, Perspective and Memorial Intentions

I constantly wonder why I am so drawn to things like this building.  I will be sitting in the passenger seat of the truck, out on a weekend with the family, and I’ll see something like this building in the distance and my entire being calls me to stop, capture, analyze.

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Sometimes I think it’s because I see beauty where others may not and I’m full of myself enough to think I can show what I see.  Sometimes I rationalize that the state of the place makes me think they’ll tear it down sometime soon and that lack of permanence makes me want to capture it before it’s gone.

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Things being there and then suddenly being gone; particularly when I least expect it, has always been a *thing* for me.  People, family, places, memories; it messes with me to realize that nothing is forever and nothing is ever guaranteed.

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If I could wrangle a promise out of the universe that things would just stay the same for a day, I would be willing to sacrifice quite a bit.  Finding that balance in life is hard for me and for many others, I realize, so maybe I’m just making sure that these things; places; buildings that were once loved and called home to someone, are never totally relegated to the pile of dust and then empty space they will eventually become.

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Like a memorial stone in a graveyard, my photos can keep something alive, in a way, that might vanish from the world at any moment.  Once a few years pass and people move on, no one will even remember that this house once existed.

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(It just dawned on me why I take photos of myself and save them, although I rarely share them with anyone. *chills*)

 

 

More abandoned beauty

It’s no secret that I find broken, abandoned or particularly decrepit things that were once loved by someone very alluring.  I don’t really understand what draws me to them, but I suspect it’s the want to create a record of it so it is no longer forgotten.  Even if no one is taking care of it anymore, everything is still beautiful in some way ….maybe even more so than shiny new things that have never weathered a storm or seen a family grow, part ways; to see new owners come though with hope and dreams in their hearts; never stood against the frozen battering of the winter or relentless heat of the summer.

Someone lived here once.  I don’t know if they were happy or bitter; loved or abandoned; healthy or ill.  I don’t know if there were kids that once played around this house or family pets that ran free, always coming when they were called. I have no idea if someone ugly and cruel holed up in this place, hidden away keeping their bitterness with society tucked away inside.  No matter what happened, something happened here once and now the only evidence of occupation left behind is the old building itself that no longer serves any purpose at all.

I like giving it a purpose, even if for only the quick snap of my camera shutter.

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