6/20/12 The Old Gymnasium

I went with Sarah to an old gymnasium today; a desolate room on the top floor of a former school for young Catholic girls. The room was vast, with a stage on the very far end, and a line of windows stretching against the distant adjacent wall. The stage was illuminated not by the spotlight that hung proudly in the center of the stage, but by a large window just beyond beyond it. The paint was peeling off of the walls, the side rooms were peppered with insect corpses, and a musty smell of dust. The window light shone and danced across the floor, a modern exit sign hung in a corner, discreetly trying to hide itself from a room it knew it didn't belong in. Sarah and I danced in the light and across the stage, she twirled with her skirt billowing like a hot air balloon, I left dust angel imprints on the floor. We laughed, but not a lot. We talked, but not excessively. It was a peace suitable for ten years of friendship.

 The previous three were taken in film, unedited, on a Hasselblad camera.