Mold, dust, tetanus and creepiness aren’t the only things birthed from the death of failed and forgotten human construction.
You can find beauty and adventure in the most unexpected places. You can even find it in a half finished abandoned building perched upon a cornmeal sand lot on the side of a remote highway in North Thailand.
So, come with me….
Many see a waste of space, a stroke of bad luck or, they simply do not see anything at all. A few though, they see something else. They see a canvas and an opportunity to become the creator.
These manmade outcasts make the perfect playground for a fox and a rabbit to tread curiously, to think quietly and to imagine a story of what was and what could have been.
There is a protectiveness felt in the shade of the geometric shapes and a coolness of bare skin against the gritted stone mash of concrete.
Depressed gray becomes a chromatic insanity, scattered beams of light reveal pink lips pulled back over ivory teeth and unintended holes become empty eyes that bleed gold.
Here, I am either a grown woman making stupid decisions with dangerous consequences or…
I am a fluff-tailed fox in a forest dome, surrounded by moss covered conifers and I rush past damp open spaces of musky earth and snarled pine cones and there are flowers in my ears and soil between my toes and I leap over the glacier bred brook because I cannot and do not desire to stop.
There is something soothing about perfect rectangles and a gentle reflection. I’d also like to know who the monkey-footed artist is?
Stairways that turn into corridors, corridors that turn into bedrooms, bedrooms that lead into closets, closets where they are hiding.
Here, where attempted dreams perish, they sit half life half dead and with friends they watch the sun rise and sink over and over, forever and ever.
Look to the sun and look to the moon and always be entranced with eyes un-lidded.
