Model: Ryan. On the second floor between wooden joists and massive, inert lighting is simply nothing but warped wood, stained with crane grease.
In what has turned into a kind of industrial courtyard between four ovens some people have posted their tags. X was here.
Island Station, in the middle of the power house, in the middle of a thunder storm. Flapping pipe covers and sheets of ran penetrating one massive arched window and blasting through the other, as winds power through the building from the Mississippi. The sound of the thunder made every length of steel squeak under the pressure.
Looking through a secure ward door at the destroyed rooms beyond.
A sign facing the city on an exterior wall–a sort of motivational poster.
A splash of pink across an otherwise boring sign caught my eye in the old elevator.
A leftover swatch remembers the last fabric sewn here.
Mill Hell before the University of Minnesota began developing the area. Now many of the buildings are gone, there are new roads and even bike paths.