I do a lot of stupid things but I'm willing to bet large amounts of money (and my incoming L-plate and ball head) that this weekend finds a place among the Top 5 Most Stupid Things Steph Ever Did. But when your Muse calls, you answer. She's like the postman and doesn't ring twice.
I came down with a bout of bronchitis on Friday, but I thought it was just a cold. So when we had plans to go out with Dave (check out his site -- he does some amazing HDRs, an area in which I'm too intimidated to venture) to a li'l local brewery on Saturday morning I wasn't going to say "No thanks, I feel like I got hit by a truck. Have fun without me!" Two weeks ago I explored on a twisted ankle and in a way that felt even worse. I drugged up on meds and headed out. We were even getting started much later than usual, so it felt almost like a vacation.
First major no-no: When it already hurts to inhale, maybe stomping over (literally) bricks of broken asbestos isn't the best thing to do. The mold doesn't help either. Or the plaster dust. Or the foot-deep piles of pigeon poop. OK, maybe that's four separate no-nos. Why didn't I wear my asbestos filters, you might be saying? Because I'm dumb and stubborn is the simple answer. I really don't have a clue. I was in that Photographer's Zone and I couldn't be trifled to stop and get the P100 out and put it on, because that would be breaking the rhythm. You could also say that a stray thought in my mind was "Well, I have so much mucus in there it's bound to catch the particles." I'm a bio nerd so I know that there's got to be truth in there... uhhh, somewhere.
I've been to the brewery once before but it was a terribly hot and muggy afternoon. It had been hazy and soupy and every reason to spark grumpiness, so grumpy I was. This time, however, it was completely different. By 10:30 it must have been only 70 degrees in the shade with real sun and a wonderful breeze. I felt comfortable enough in this place to wander away, knowing that the guys were working at their own pace and would be available if one of us needed each other.
There are two buildings that make up this little complex. They are both very derelict and broken, but the second had some interesting features. One: it had no back wall. Two: the power was still on, even though a lot of the light bulbs were on their way out. Three: There were fresh rodent traps in the hallways. Four: the refrigeration was still on.
Yes. We accidentally walked into at least three different storage facilities with active refrigeration and huge pallets of minced garlic, cocktail sauce, and other packaged items. Hmm. We backed out of there pretty quickly. I know that Baltimore rats are pretty tenacious and a threat to Homeland Security in their own right, but I'd like to see a Charm City rat eat that kind of volume of condiments. I double-dog dare them.
Despite the mysterious cold room storage, the brewery had a very calm aura about it. At the top of the first building I put my camera down and walked over to one of the broken windows. The view over the city skyline was clear and close, almost as if I could touch it. The wall to my right was completely destroyed, allowing free access (and fall) to the courtyard 4 stories below. It was just me and the breeze and I had almost ten minutes to be completely alone with my thoughts and the peace. Although exploring is an invasive pastime, for once I felt that crunching noisily on the broken glass under my feet was sacrilege. I didn't know whose temple I would be defiling, but for these few short minutes I just couldn't being myself to do it. Sometimes I wish I could explore alone. The kind of meditation, zen, focus, and mental clarity I was getting this morning would almost make it worth the risk. Sometimes I wish I could do it.
Getting back to reality was a cruel tug on the rope. Put on the mask of a smile again... and keep shooting.
The finished gallery is here.
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