Team Wet Dog

typewriter

This is one of those images from way-back. Driving along a small road somewhere in South Carolina, I stumbled on an abandoned peach packing plant. Such things must be explored.

It's always interesting to sift through the remnants of something that is broken down. Old warehouses, homes and offices go through this weird aging process where they get depressing and ugly before they develop some sort of patina of life again. It's tough to explain, but if you've ever rummaged around a place that has been abandoned then you know what I mean.

Anyway, in a bit of artistically-licenses larceny, I moved some things around. Including the typewriter, which I dragged out back and set up against the horizon.

Flat spaces, where you can see to the horizon, are one of those things that photographers tend to obsess a little about. There's this urge to fill the space with something, and this idea that the space lends credence to whatever object we use.

On the other hand, not all spaces really need to be filled. And besides, maybe sometimes space is just space - it's really only fascinating if it's rare. Living in D.C., I can't think of an uncluttered horizon within miles; and yet in South Carolina they were everything and I thought nothing of it.
 

— Robert

(12/11/06) 
(back, next)