Art rusted
386 creative works found
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The SS Dicky was washed ashore onto Dicky Beach in 1893 during a cyclone. It was re-floated, but again, heavy seas turned the ship about and back onto the sand where it remains to this day. / / The suburb and beach was named after the ship. The beach is an unspoilt stretch of sun-drenched sand, on Queensland’s magnificent Sunshine Coast. Taken with my 5D and 16-35mm lens and I was so lucky to have a nature spectacle as the fog rolled in from West creating a mystic ambience I have also written a photographers guide if you are interested in knowing more about this site
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This is a digital abstract piece using a flame fractal and photographic textures. / / About a possible future day when we remember all what machines could do for us, till they ceased to exist and became rusted memories. / / CREDIT : / Many thanks to Cameron Gray for providing his free textures on his Parable Visions website. / / / DATE OF CREATION : 2007.10.12th / / DETAILS / Click a thumbnail for a real-size detail from the original~ / / / / / © 2007 Nodakami
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Once functional gears, now seized and rusted in place, forgotten and neglected. The beauty and texture of industrial decay is all around us, if you know where to look. This was taken at the Glenwood Power Station, in Yonkers, NY. / http://www.hudsonvalleyruins.org/
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www.lindsayblamey.com.au
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Well here it is the final image i am posting for the children’s book….finally finished the manuscript…lots of work …..had to add scenes ..more images…great though cause it is a picture book :)....i though i would leave the rest of the images as a surprise :)...i would explain this image but i don’t want to give it away …hope you can forgive me :)...to be honest i am sad i won’t be albe to share more images of lilliput and his adventure….have to keep it a secret…i did did make a decision to submit to a publishing house instead of self publishing…i am crossing my fingers…i have been doing my homework so i hope i won’t be rejected to much :) thank you everyone for the encourgement you have given me here on RB for my Lilliput Series…i truly appreciate it:)
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A brief candle; both ends burning / An endless mile; a bus wheel turning / A friend to share the lonesome times / A handshake and a sip of wine / So say it loud and let it ring / We are all a part of everything / The future, present and the past / Fly on proud bird / You’re free at last. - written by Charlie Daniels, en route to the funeral for his friend, Ronnie Van Zant of the band, Lynyrd Skynyrd. / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-- / all rights reserved. photo taken at teton state hospital. / more of my work is available at www.abandonedamerica.org
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easily one of the grandest and most ornate asylums ever built, / algonquin river state hospital was a cause of great local controversy during construction / due to running far over budget. the extravagance is evident in the beautiful masonry, / the ornamental woodwork, the stained glass windows with their decorative yet functional iron grating. / olmsted, the man who designed central park, laid out the grounds and the span of the wings / is half a mile, if you walked end to end. / to do so now is impossible. / in an ironic twist, the much-contested (and extremely expensive) yellow pine floors / fared far less impressively over time than those made of other, cheaper materials. / the epic scale of the structural collapse, combined with a devastating fire last summer, / make algonquin river state hospital quite possibly the most deadly building in existence. / floors like the one shown here / give way into gaping abysses, punji pits full of sharp, splintered boards / fanning out from the basement like jagged teeth in the ever-hungry mouth of death itself. / to take this photo i had to make it from the crumbling doorway on the left / onto the sagging mess in the extreme foreground. the floor shifted beneath my feet / and my added weight sent dust and debris cascading ominously into oblivion below. / it was quite possibly the most frightening moment of my life, second only to the one / where i had to get back into the doorway with no real solid ground to support me as i inched closer. / i may not be terribly afraid of death. i may even frequently wish for it. / i am, however, afraid of being paralyzed, of falling onto a rotted shard of floorboard and / laying impaled and broken for hours, with no real help available. i am not too proud / to admit that i wanted nothing more than to stay in the relative safety of the door frame, / or that i am glad that i will never again have to make the nerve-wracking leap of faith / back to the only exit. / that being said, i would do it again if i had to. there is no better example than algonquin / that all things fall apart, and i feel a certain kinship with it. we are both collapsing inside, / and it is an odd thing to see before your very eyes what you imagine / your own heart looks like. / very odd indeed. / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-- photo taken at algonquin river state hospital. all rights reserved. / more of my work is available on abandonedamerica.org
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photo taken in the communicable disease hospital at isle de las gaviotas / perhaps one of the most difficult locations to access that there is :) / more of my work is on my website, www.abandonedamerica.org
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if one cares at all for the truth, it is important / to periodically step back and look at what defines / the world around us, and by extension, ourselves. / in algonquin river state hospital’s case, it is defined by / its grand ambitions and idealistic foundation / and now, by the collapse of these noble ambitions. / it is a place haunted by the scores of tragedies that litter its past, / by its inability to integrate into the world around it, / and its inevitable decline into obsolescence and disrepair - / much like me. / if i were to be honest, i don’t want to see it demolished, / but i don’t want to see it restored either. / it is what it is because of these things, / and its status as some behemoth / enshrouded in its own obscurity and decay makes it / larger than life, legendary even. / to tear it down to make some development or store / seems so pedestrian, insultingly dull, in much the same way as / trying to undo all of the damage wrought upon it, / cleaning it and sterilizing it and packaging it for the masses / ultimately belittles what it truly is. you may look at it / and wince at the sheer scale of the calamity it has become, / but no matter what you think it has finally revealed its true nature, / and has become something far more intricate and ornate / than our ordinary world, / with its gray cubicles and prefabricated sentiments, allows. / to see algonquin river state hospital, you have to actively seek it, / much like you are making a pilgrimage to some hallowed site / that is a shrine to all that fails, all hopes that are smashed by time. / to change it, to ‘save’ it, ultimately destroys it anyway. / and so too, i suppose there is something necessary about / my own longing to leave this world. if i were not consumed by my / relentless desire for my own destruction, why would i seek such things? / sometimes it is the very things that eat us apart, / that ultimately kill us, even, that are our own defining characteristics. / i have no delusions about my own greatness, or lack thereof, but nevertheless / if edgar allen poe wouldn’t have followed a trajectory that left him / dead in some back street’s gutter, if van gogh hadn’t followed a path / of loneliness so severe that it drove him mad - / would we ever know of their works? would they even have accomplished any? / i postulate that dissatisfaction is the mother of creation. / without it we have no incentive to create or to change, as / contentment is suspicious of change, lest it throw off comfortable equilibrium. / and so i suppose my own defining characteristics are a necessary evil. / were i to be happy, were i not to suffer, / this work that i do that defines me, that is paradoxically one of my only joys / would likely cease to be as well. / i don’t want to be a walmart, a business park, a playground. / when i am gone, let it be left to those few who care / to wonder at what drove me to do what i do, and / what frightening and magnificent things i saw in places like this. / i have chosen this path and where it will lead me, all in the hope that / it will entertain, edify, and maybe even enlighten / those of you gracious enough to join me and peer into my life through / the small window of my camera’s lens. / this is my downward spiral in all its splendor, friends. / enjoy. / -—-—-—-—-—-——- / photo taken at algonquin river state hospital. / more of my work is online at www.abandonedamerica.org
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Death is a delightful hiding place for weary men. ~Herodotus more of my work is viewable on www.abandonedamerica.org
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we were all so addicted to spectacle: / the drama of the media and celebrity lives, our / huge cineplexes and large-screen tvs, the / cacophony of arena concerts and the overblown importance / we gave our own silly little struggles. / we were like the romans with their bread and circuses / we were in the colosseum enjoying our pageants and staged conflicts / while all the signs around us were pointing one way: / to our own ruin. / there came a point, however, when we could no longer ignore / the fact that we were addicted to poisoning everything that was vital to us. / food stopped growing in the tainted soil, the air itself became toxic, waters rose and cities fell / you would have thought with our taste for the electrifying harmony of discord / that we would have revelled in it, but it was all so different / when the show finally began. / there was no audience to witness it for we were all playing a part. / we were the ones on the stage, and the / epic tragedies being played out / were now our own lives. / -—-—-—-—-—-—-— / photo taken in juanita de brogas magnet middle school / more of my work is on www.abandonedamerica.org
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This is a digital abstract piece using a flame fractal and photographic textures. / / Sister piece to Machines could do the work / / CREDIT : / Many thanks to Cameron Gray for providing his free textures on his Parable Visions website. / / / DATE OF CREATION : 2007.10.12th / / / © 2007 Nodakami
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St Bathans abandoned mine works… NEW ZEALAND / REAL ESTATE SERIES / FROGS / LENSBABY / INFRARED / BEACH / INDUSTRIAL / SPAM / PANORAMAS / LANDSCAPES
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Took this photo today of ordinary rusty pipes and like the striking abstract they actually create so I thought I would share, it’s not my usual style but I guess it’s good to think outside the square! .. B.
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This is the same boat as in Waterline.
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Another from the Plastic People series Seascapes / New Zealand / Frogs / Lensbaby / Infrared / Industrial / Spam / Panorama / Landscapes / Real Estate Series / People
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Beautiful colour and texture on a building in Essaouira, Morocco.
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there is something eerie about staring down through / the remains of rooms where the flooring has collapsed. / it goes beyond the mortal fear of falling and death, / beyond the realization that there but for the grace of god go i. / maybe there is some inate sense that this is not something that is or should be possible. / it is like staring through holes torn in the fabric of different dimensions / and it throws off your balance and perspective, leaving everything askew. / splintered shards of boards jut off at illogical angles, / heavy radiators dangle from pipes like rusted fruit on steel vines, / and doorways swing outward into cavernous voids. / people once walked, talked, worked, and slept / along these planes now almost entirely inaccessable to man. / distant portals open to rooms and wards whose secrets will remain hidden / until they are erased by decay, by fire, by the wrecking ball. / there is always this pervasive sense that these are the areas where the answers lie, / that if one only pushes a little harder, takes a few more risks / this search for who knows what will produce some tangible results / and this consuming drive well somehow be rewarded with / reprieve, release, redemption. / this is the nature of my obsession. when you look at me, / you should see not what lies before you / my physical shell, a fragmented collection of skin and bones and blood. / you should see the conspicuous absence of what i was, what i could be, / of my very spirit, which has divorced itself from my corporeal form. / i once walked and talked, worked and slept along planes / now almost entirely inaccessable to man. / even now as we speak i am drifting somewhere, restless / stuck in limbo, in the space between floors. / -—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-— more available at my (recently updated) site, www.abandonedamerica.org / photo taken at algonquin state hospital / all rights reserved. may not be reproduced without permission.
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i just love this hood of an antique truck i found high in the mountains wilderness of Montana. the parts of the truck are so old, they are falling apart, but most of the truck is intact. Must have been there a hundred years !! wonderful rust and colours. the hood has hinges, panels and handles and it is art itself. it is large with 4 hinged sections and weighs at least 100 lbs. this is a macro shot of one of the handles used to lift the hood as well as engine vents. Featured: Abstract Macro Urban Art
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photo taken at algonquin river state hospital. / more of my work is available at www.abandonedamerica.org
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