The turbine shed
The shed’s shadows reek of a mechanical past
Layers of rust and dust lie heavy like a cloak of mist
Doors to darkness, and stairs to nowhere
Echoes of an anvil and the rolling of metal
Yearning for the blue outside fragmented glass
But the door is locked in green
Rusted and aged shut
Yesterday’s heavy machine shop
Still whispers of its productive past.
© 2013 Francesca Muir
Why is it that these photo's like your RUST post speak to me. I have the urge to reach out and touch each surface.Thankyou for catching me unawares, as previously I have only felt connected to images with high colour.
B xx
A touching post Francesca.
I could not resist not sharing it..!
Wishing you a great weekend..!
Beautiful work Francesca! Would love to hunt around Cockatoo Island one day. Must be full of old souls. Xcat
You can bring melancholy to the fore with sensitivity – never thought old machinery could evoke sadness. Belinda is right, these images do speak to one.
These photos reminded me of the exhibition on the third floor of The Rocks Museum in Sydney. If you've not seen it, you should drop by. (Okay, how fun is it that I am writing a recommendation about YOUR city to you!!???) Jxo
Incredible how such places make great pictures!
have always liked rusty photographs:)