The mostly-empty distilling room is easy to spot from the outside because of the distinctive round window.
The last time the city sealed this door, they must have been changing out old road signs.
One of the few doors.
Pozo Mine, the most menacing mine building I’ve ever seen. Black and white film, shot with the Fuji GX680, a beast of a camera.
From the back of the house, looking at a lone chair on stage. From these seats it’s amazing to me that such a giant theater existed out of sight in the middle of downtown.
Seven TV sets and not one shows my reflection. I’d also like to point out not two of these are the same.
Watching the comings and goings of doctors, nurses and new patients was a mainstay of asylum routine; one can find it easy to imagine pale faces pressed against the block glass windows, staring out at the world moving past them.
An elevator to bring big somethings into the basement, it seemed. Nearby were the plant firetrucks, still ready to go. I hope they were saved.
The cold air collided with the sun-warmed water on the floor, filling the ground floor of the Keg House with thick fog…