I remember seeking out solitude and magic in abandoned places as a youth.
The places would become ours, our own private Idaho if you will, taking shelter from what we believed to be a world that was too much at out feet. We spoke in poetry, and let our laughter rise to meet the sky. There we sang in harmonies of liberty and freedom; moving through our present, where cigarettes and coffee were just as important as music and sex.
There is so much magic to be found in what has been left behind, the decay is just part of its transition, inspiring curiosity and the desire to create. -tM