This old buildingLondon, ON
July 2011
About this photo: We're exploring the crazy world of parallel lines all week long, so if you're into the Thematic thing and want to share your own parallel vision, head here.
Our family's adventurous summer included a visit a couple of weeks ago to the ER with our daughter (story here). And as I made my way back into the hospital to meet them after parking the car, I quickly shot some pictures in the parking lot. Not because the scene was artistically brilliant in any way, but because when I'm stressed, taking pictures of whatever surrounds me (see here) seems to calm me down and give me focus. And later on, it lets me revisit the experience through a lens that might not have been possible had I not cracked out the camera in the middle of it all.
So in addition to the smokestacks, I captured this view of the sunset-lit facade of one of the old hospital buildings. Like many hospitals, this one's been added to over the years to the point that the entire thing looks like a jumble of mismatched buildings, all from different eras. For some odd reason, it's always the old ones that capture my attention. And on this night, it was this particularly forgotten piece of architecture that reflected the light more beautifully than any other part of this gigantic facility.
I guess I was looking for small and comforting. And I guess I found it in that brief moment before I tucked the camera back away and headed inside.
Your turn: Do you find comfort in older things? Why?
So in addition to the smokestacks, I captured this view of the sunset-lit facade of one of the old hospital buildings. Like many hospitals, this one's been added to over the years to the point that the entire thing looks like a jumble of mismatched buildings, all from different eras. For some odd reason, it's always the old ones that capture my attention. And on this night, it was this particularly forgotten piece of architecture that reflected the light more beautifully than any other part of this gigantic facility.
I guess I was looking for small and comforting. And I guess I found it in that brief moment before I tucked the camera back away and headed inside.
Your turn: Do you find comfort in older things? Why?
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6 comments:
I find comfort in older things because it reminds me of the good times.. I have a photo of my brother and his dog Mac... I love that photo..Because that dog was given to my brother for companionship.. A good friend of the family gave up his dog. Mac was one of the gentlest, sweetest soul.. He never barked and he was a huge retriever... He went everywhere w/my brother up until my bro got married...Sad to say, Mac was not well liked by my SIL and I am sure my brother had some convos w/Mac like we all do w/our fur babies. :-)
Id like to invite everyone to read a blog post today of a woman who joined the old order Mennonite church from the outside. I'm extremely lucky in publishing her very first, and most likely last post on Amish Stories. A lot of work was involved in her getting permission to be even able to write anything on the internet, and permission was given by her bishop. So please stop by and read about a woman who gave-up her car and other worldly possessions for the person that she loved. Richard from Amish Stories.
Damn it! I AM the older thing!:(
My 'older things' are usually people- but yes. Resoundingly, yes. For all the reasons you mentioned and so very many, many more.
Richard: I doubt that you'll ever return here to read this, But I'm going to write it anyway.
First, I'm not entirely sure what an inspirational story of an Amish woman's life has to do with my blog. It's patently clear that you didnt read this entry, and I'm willing to bet you haven't read any other entries here, either. If I had the time and the inclination - which I do not - I would Google your comment and probably find the same, rote-pasted text on a bunch of other blogs with which you have no connection.
Second, spamming this woman's story is hardly an effective way to build a connection with readers. If you really wanted my attention, you would have taken the time to cultivate some sort of rapport with me and my readers. Youl would have read some of the content here, possibly left a comment or two, possibly put some real humanity behind the words you claim to value so deeply.
Third, I actually did follow your link home. Wait, I lie. You didn't include a link. I had to work to find your site, and when I landed on it, had to work even harder to find the entry in question. I'm still not entirely sure I succeeded, because they all looked the same. It's 90 seconds I won't get back, and that annoys me.
So here's the deal, Richard: if you want me to actually read your work, don't spam me. Don't waste my time with half-baked comments - and don't waste my readers' time, either. I monitor all comments on this site, and I chose to allow this one through this one time only, because this needed to be said. But play this game again and your comment will never see the light of day.
Thanks for your kind attention to this matter.
Most definitely. When I see older "things" I picture the less automated process of yesteryear that it took to make them. More hands-on I guess.
And I wonder about the history buildings have seen like the one youʻve pictured here. If walls could talk theyʻd tell a myriad of stories of years past from good to bad but Iʻd love to listen.
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