Flamo

Sunrise in the orphanage… between classrooms and whispers.

The pockmarked concrete sign of Substation #2 over the control room that faces the highway.

The playground used to be near the school which is now in ruins.

The front door to the auditorium.

We mark our world in unexpected ways… this is how patient possessions would be stored during their stay in the old asylum wards. It’s about the size of a shoebox, and this particular drawer has a name where the others do not. Its place reminded me of the hospital cemetery where more than 3,000 are buried and less than 1% of whom are recorded by stone or plaque in their resting place.

This spiral staircase isn’t doing Lemp much good–maybe they’ll let me have it! I do love, though, that there is a door going to it–without walls–and it ascends to a second floor that doesn’t exactly exist anymore.

A broken scale in Isabella A, next to an old wood stove.

Another ruined spiral staircase in the mill.

Old parts catalogs litter the floor. The office overlooks empty shelves. Graffiti glue peeling paint in place.