The balcony used to be beautiful, you say. I say, it still is.
A closeup of a high window in Bunge.
Steam pipes snake up the walls like vines, but with asbestos.
The world’s biggest paper machine was installed here about a century before this photo was taken. The orange in the windows is the brick building across the street–the new part of the plant.
Ladders crawl the back of the signs. Graffiti writers’ right of passage.
In the middle of one of the outlying cottages, perhaps the Masonic Cottage–it was too damaged to tell, really–are these pair of skinny doors that led from patient rooms to a common area with rotting shag carpet.
The backdrop has become the pallet for water damage and graffiti.
The roof has been replaced since this was taken. Hopefully, that will stem the water damage.
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.