I was given overnight access to an abandoned flour mill in Eastern Washington. It was a five story tower and I got quality shots on four of the stories. Below is the first. Will post more in coming weeks.
Allis Roller
Flour Mill
I was given overnight access to an abandoned flour mill in Eastern Washington. It was a five story tower and I got quality shots on four of the stories. Below is the first. Will post more in coming weeks.
Allis Roller
One Comment
I found myself captured in time, much like the very machinery that had drawn me up those weathered, wooden stairs. I could feel the excitement rise up from deep within as each step I took caused the boards to bend beneath me, groaning, worn from years of repetition. My interest had been peaked the week before, which was when I had learned of the preservation that took place upstairs…as well as the possibility to tour the climbing tower that had once been a bustling flour mill. Here I was, about to gain an experience I would likely not forget. My first steps through the door captured my spirit, entirely. Every step after that was spent trying to regain the breath that was poached from my very being, astonished by the intricate details left well-seasoned and heavily used, but abandoned. As I scaled each floor, pausing to study the individual work stations, I learned the history. It came to me not by reading, but by feeling, by listening with my soul. The story is strong. The adventures, many. I took my time, eventually making my way back downstairs. Small talk with the staff led me to learn of you, Ron. It was in the back office where I took the time to unroll each of the prints that you provided from your adventures that dark night. The images that you captured put me right back upstairs where I had begun. Your vision, sir, …the way that you see things, your personal touch against each piece of artwork, ….absolutely awe-inspiring. Thank you very much, Mr. Matson, for sharing your passion with the world.