Category / beautifully decayed / flora / images / structures
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![broken]()
brOkEn wiNdoW
Wynn Bullock said, “As I became aware that all things have unique spatial and temporal qualities which visually define and relate them, I began to perceive the things I was photographing not as objects but as events. Working to develop my skills of perceiving and symbolizing these event qualities, I discovered the principle of…
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![baby ruth]()
rich…
…in dextrose more C6H12O6 because everyone needs to load up on that, she said with a straight face Imagination is a licensed trespasser: it has no fear of dogs, but may climb over walls and peep in at windows with impunity. — George Eliot said that
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![office]()
eMPtY
Since the beginning, Americans have raced toward the horizon: building, rebuilding, and discarding. All across America we have left abandoned, like carcasses after the feast, that which only yesterday was state-of-the-art invention. — David Plowden said that
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![like eyes]()
like eyes
Of all the ruinous and desolate places my uncle had ever beheld, this was the most so. There was a huge fire-place in the room into which they walked, and the chimney was blackened with smoke; but no warm blaze lighted it up now. The white feathery dust of burnt wood was still strewed…
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![left hanging]()
left hanging
It was one of those screen doors with a spring to ensure it closed behind a person and every time it did there was an unmistakable squeak followed by a slam. Sometimes, when the latch was left hanging, the wind caught the door, flinging it wildly open, stretching the spring and separating the coils.…
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![old flowers, old film, old money]()
old flowers, old film, old money
As a person who has lived in many towns, in many states; always in the public eye, I’ve had to devise a plan for quick simulation. One of the tools I’ve made use of in this process is a city’s oldest cemetery. I have found a correlation between the surnames on the grandest monuments…
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![the old road]()
the old road
When I captured this image, I kept thinking one day thoughts would flow as they sometimes do, but everything that comes to mind are things better left unsaid. The new bridge sits between the old bridge and the trestle track, but I drove across the old road, parked, and captured this image.
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![t E N d R i L]()
t E N d R i L
Once upon a time, (all good stories begin like that), a tendril, shooting off from a weed, grew. as it stretched it’s way upward toward the sun, it found a crack in the wood of a window and decided
