About two weeks ago I went on an adventure with my dear friend Zoe. We explored an abandoned mill that has been decaying, crumbling, dying for several years. (Yes, I said dying...I believe that buildings can die when they no longer feel the breath of use).
The place was magical. The light shone brilliantly into every room, highlighting the peeling pink paper of the walls and the cracking white of the wooden floorboards. Ivy coated the outside of the windows, tinting them in a honey green.
I needed to go back. I needed to make that magical place come to life again in a photo. I wanted to capture the haunting presence that filled every nook and cranny.
Photos of the scouting mission:
After considerable planning, the day of the grand shoot finally came. The results were not as I imagined (there were several logistic problems during the shooting process–low light and ill-made head pieces being the two most offensive) but I still had a wonderful time.
I'm coming to understand that it's okay if the the end product of a shoot doesn't work out or resemble what I imagine...sometimes the experience worth more than the result.
Failure should be a pleasure–it is the only way to assure eventual success (or at least this is what I shall tell myself so that I can sleep at night)
I'm coming to understand that it's okay if the the end product of a shoot doesn't work out or resemble what I imagine...sometimes the experience worth more than the result.
Failure should be a pleasure–it is the only way to assure eventual success (or at least this is what I shall tell myself so that I can sleep at night)
The final photos:
