A simple porcelain fountain in the original brewhouse. The water fountain, no doubt, is not original.
The railing were jealous of both the bricks and bits, and chose instead to dissolve like this.
The laundry building, where many of the tunnels came to an end. It looks very East Coast industrial to me.
Perhaps this office was for a film studio or music producer.
On top of the light hoop, 160-feet up, a ship comes into port, ready to load-up. If you look really close, you can see my shadow cast on the dock below, courtesy of the full moon.
The American Victory next to M, seen late at night.
What you see is not a crack in the floor, but a long vine extending ten feet onto the shop floor, as if reaching in to escape the wind and rain.
The most pointless, beautiful and nuclear-bomb-proof catwalk I’ve been on to date. It goes between two high levels in its own bottom-lit concrete capsule in the center of the tallest, thickest building. Hang on, we’re riding this one out.