Coded writing on a pillar in one of the assembly buildings.
A sharp turn in the coatings department twists the steel out of sight.
In the mine offices, hooks and a board with numbers was the system to keep track of who was in the mine and who was safe.
2005. Looking across the Mississippi from a park the night after the first snow.
Wintertime is quiet, except for the planes overhead.
With an office like this, the ones food begins to taste more and more like nachos.
A little sun and a little moisture sprouted this grass in the middle of the steel silos, in the midst of Minneapolis’ “graffiti graveyard”. Two images of time: nature growing through industry and rust dissolving old art in the elements.
Moss growing where the sunlight sneaks through the boarded windows.