It’s a strange a true confession, but I do. For a large part of my life I’ve loved going in abandoned houses and buildings. I don’t damage anything, I don’t take anything (unless I have previous permission from the owner) I just go. I try to get permission to enter if possible, but know that technically I’m entering illegally if I don’t have permission. I also know that if I fell through and broke a floorboard or something there would be consequences, and no I don’t mean suing the owner. (Though perhaps they could sue me!)
Recently I’ve decided to combine that strange love with something else, my strange love and fascination of old worn out houses. Without a doubt if I drive past a run down abandoned house, especially a farm house or Victorian, I will fall hopelessly in love and fantasize about buying it and saving it. In fact if I ever had just bookoos of money, that’s what I’d do, I’d buy old houses, just so they don’t get torn down. I love them that much. I have cried over them more then once. The idea that this house, where people where born, where they lived, where they loved, where they grew, will be torn down with no second thoughts truly breaks my heart. So I plan to start a long-term photography project to capture some of these houses. To be sure that these house are actually captured on film, remembered in some way.
Here’s the first one of the series, a neat old farm house obviously abandoned since the 60’s perhaps 70’s, (I can tell by what furniture and appliances were left) I didn’t go upstairs, but all in all the main floor was in amazing condition for being alone so long. The property is currently for sale as an estate property, so I KNOW before long this place will be gone. Just rumble on a hill, torn down for something new.
Here’s just two shots. One of the outside, and one of the VERY unique stairwell.
If the house is still there, and enterable, next time I pass (who knows when that may be) I’m going to voyage upstairs. if I can squeeze my large rumpus between that landing!