Just outside of the blast furnace is a series of platforms and catwalks to bring workers to the stoves.
When you watch TV from the jars, it seems so much more real, they tell me.
Standing atop the dust collector, the factory breaks down into diverging patterns, processes.
Work never done.
Power-up to cool down… would have been nice on the hot day I climbed on top of this machine.
The porcelain hoops guided the silk threads through the device.
In this section of the Men’s Ward, sealed by brick from lower floors, the room doors had messages painted in their inside–some motivational, some not. I would be interested to hear if anyone knows the backstory of this section. Lighting is natural; it was just after sunset.
The giant radiators in this casting shop look like a flag to me.
Rain and snow has gutted a third of the building. From the ground floor, I could see the sky in some places.