After climbing the elevator shaft to the illusive second level, a new pallet of colors were revealed.
Vines are finding their way into the roundhouse.
Expanding foam provides some textural contrast to the wood floors, worn smooth over a century. This building dates to the 1890s and was built as the coffin plant.
There’s a roof problem above the surgical suite.
A high-ceilinged room where kegs would be delivered for cleaning, before they were refilled with fresh booze.
A bunk room, minus the bunks.
Connecting the Administration building’s tower and top floors is this beautiful cast iron staircase. It was probably designed to help service the clock originally planned to be set in the tower, but when the hospital went over budget the state cancelled the timepiece. Now we are left with a gorgeous stair with little or no real purpose–not that I’m complaining. I am a long-admitted spiral staircase fetishist.
A long exposure in the crane cab at sunset throws a bit of color into the bleak yellow glows between the windows and car shaker.