It’s very sad to say that this home has recently been demolished.
I found this house during a summer evening and was immediately attracted to the way the sun lit every single room. Each room was a different color, all bright, all happy.
Peering up the stairs, I could see that the sun was consuming the bright walls which lie in the rooms ahead. It was almost blinding, the way the outside light wrapped itself up throughout the upper floor, creating a vivid display particularly within the yellow/green room, where the stairs initially had led to.
The home was empty, all but two lone chairs residing in the chilled basement. Two chairs like I had not seen before in any other abandoned structure, and they were inside a basement of an otherwise empty home. This was quite strange, and got me wondering a but more about what previous operations had taken place inside the structure.
The peeling of paint had revealed each room’s previous color, complimenting each other greatly in the radiant sunlight. It was a peaceful, beautiful place to be. The bathroom housed an old claw-foot bathtub, while a small, ornate chandelier dangled the living room ceiling.
While passing through some days ago now, I saw nothing left of the structure, while bulldozers flattened the land as if they had filled the basement already with dirt. It’s always so strange seeing a place like this completely disappear, knowing that nobody will ever again have the chance to photograph it, yet I hold these images of its life before passing. I think that is one of the strongest feelings an explorer/photographer can feel about their work.
My Book “Empty Spaces”: