Over a weekend in March, I had this strange opportunity to conduct a photo session at one of the most desolate locations from my hometown. I’ve passed by it many times wondering what lies within this desolate, dilapidated playground. I discovered the austere atmosphere, the kind that sits on your spine, like an itch that can never be scratched. Here is what I discovered:
The writings on the interior walls spoke volumes. Satanic motifs and threatening words barred the entrance to the second floor. I dared not enter. The words scrawled across the stare well read, “Do not go upstairs…you’re already dead.” This was among other words, such as “the devil was here,” “DIE,” and even the sarcastic welcoming on the foyer entrance door:
Here are other views of the house that make you wonder how it got to such a state of deterioration:
Even with the retrogression of this old farm home, there is much to be said about the beauty of absence. No one was there, but the remnants of writing makes it clear that someone was at some point in time. We live in a world full of presence. Presence of things and people that are always taking up our attention.
This was a great eye opening experience, and if you ever come across an abandoned building, I dare you to enter and discover for yourself the beauty of absence.