Tag Archives: abandoned

cadence of the long silences

cadence of the long silences © 2016 Jered Dawnne

cadence of the long silences © 2016 Jered Dawnne: a portion of the facade of the Donohoe Building at the Cherokee Mental Institute

movement
and the Tower, still
transfixed in winged progression
how a soul might fly

     had i known it then
     would i seek for misdirection
     would i yearn for something more
     than the sanctity of tears
     than the wisdom of darklight
     than the strength of unmended minds

Truth
no other vision grows
Star, and its quiescence
the pure and the strong
bereaved in Transformations
that Tower still enthroned
and the multiverse implodes

     had i known it then
     would any of this matter
     would this emptiness still cling
     to the relevance of fear
     to this constant wondering
     to the coldness of broken minds

Moon’s light
above the Tower burning
transfigured in procession
now a soul does fly

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cadence of the long silences © 2016 Jered Dawnne
a variation of “Interim: A Requiem” © 1990.09.05 Jered Dawnne, published 1993 in “The Sabre”

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of moments lost within minds gone elsewhere

linear recursions (drained) © 2016 Jered Dawnne

linear recursions (drained) © 2016 Jered Dawnne

there is a pattern to our incarnations which we rarely perceive, let alone understand. we revolve around each other in sliding spirals, sometimes within each other’s view, but more often not. seldom do we understand what we see within our own reflections, and when those reflections are from within someone else’s eyes, there comes a type of hypnotism of the self. usually, there is only room for conjecture in the spaces between our lives, but sometimes, those interactions create a closeness that is difficult to explain.

and then, they happen in places like this.

it really isn’t that odd for something to begin to grow in a place where so much has been lost. but when it happens, it forms a certain type of unity that will be difficult to unravel.

not that you’d ever want it to.

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atramentous detachment

atramentous detachment © 2016 Jered Dawnne

atramentous detachment © 2016 Jered Dawnne

one of the things i did this past weekend was wander around a couple of abandoned buildings on the grounds of the Cherokee Mental Health Institute. it had been a very long while since i had satisfied any sort of morbid curiosity, so this was actually a rather conflictive thing for me, internally. something my adoptive parents probably never knew about me was my fascination with abandoned buildings as well as new construction sites: the places i actually went when i skipped out at night. the inherent disparity between such things forms its own gravity, so they sit in the same place in my head. i love the way my brain pushes and pulls me in places like this. visiting here this past Sunday conjured many old memories that hadn’t surfaced in decades, all while making some new ones. it was a heady end to a very nice weekend.

this is the lobby of the old Donohoe building. some topological research online suggests that this was a prison building, which is somewhat substantiated by the thick-grilled, small-paned windows around the exterior. i deliberately captured the small fireplace in the lobby with the lens tilted off the dirty glass to include the early-afternoon reflection of the pillars and trees outside: a mix of the dismal, dark, decaying interior, and the taunting promise of a freedom just out of reach. there was no way not to wonder about the people who had been in and out of there: what caused them to be there, what they experienced, what they did.

i would love/hate to actually tour the interiors and the tunnels between these buildings. their histories, especially apparently from the 1960’s and 70’s, infer violences left seething, sorrows left mourning, and the conflicted fears of being released and being left behind. but when i visit these places where so many dreams have died, i am reminded of the relative ease of my own life, even when the moments are rough and the nights are long and broken and void; so my transient love of life returns for a while, and i am whole again.

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dark brightened

dark brightened © 2007, 2015 Jered Dawnne

dark brightened © 2007, 2015 Jered Dawnne

this was christmas day, now seven past, in a time i may be glad i cannot really remember. i was operating on remote, at the end of one of my toughest creative years, with another large wedding looming before me at the turn of the year. images such as this were far more haphazard than they seem, because moments of solitude like this were few and far between. i let them sit for seven years because i was broken, and they were broken, and like everything from my past, they take considerable effort to repair. they were captured with a broken lens, and that means not a single one can stand on its own “as shot.” but, i get to them, each one, each throw-away, each keeper. and i touch them with eyes attached to a brain that barely remembers those fleeting emotions that compelled me to get out and capture them. and each time i put one out, it is a little life, and a little death.

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once lived

once lived © 2007, 2015 Jered Dawnne

once lived © 2007, 2015 Jered Dawnne

the trouble with capturing some of these old farmhouses in the winter is that white paint and white snow make for a fairly washed-out image. so, i play and i play and it takes me quite a while to make an actual decision, which i will subsequently rethink multiple times. i chose this version for “once lived” because it represents how the place made me feel the evening i photographed it: that quiet, uneasy, unwelcomeness. that much was probably projection on my part, of course, but between the living and the gone-to-earth, the places people set aside for other things always seem to simultaneously cry out for renewal and shoo visitors away. it’s a strange place, my head, and stranger even more through the lens, sometimes.

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returning to simple pleasures

an old farmhouse and trees in the winter with a backdrop of newer farming techniques in the distance

an old farmhouse and trees in the winter with a backdrop of newer farming techniques in the distance

it has been a while since i posted here, not for want of posting, nor of creating, but for lapses of focus and the need for other things. life is an interesting conundrum at times, but this has been the one hiatus, of all of them, during which my mind was ever here, and ever fixed upon these images i have planned to renew, relive, and to eventually publish.

there is not much to this image that the caption does not reveal. i avoided working with this set of photos for years due to the power lines and the hassle they represent for photo editing. but upon reconsideration, i’ve decided that i like the mix of old and new…at least in this one. now, those power lines really are no more intrusive to me than the round bales in the background that belie the current state of things. they compliment the age of the structure and the warp of its roof from years of neglect and piles of drifted snow, at least in my mind.

it might just be an excuse; regardless, due to the low-contrast light at the time this scene was captured, i settled for the minor triumph of extracting the colouration that i did.

it begins to snow this evening, as i work within these old images of even older things. i’ve held a fondness, and respect, for the snow, even from a youth which was nearly devoid of it. to me, the snow is at once a cleansing blanket of ephemeral purity and the harbinger of that slow but temporary death which eventually gives birth to the springtime: that transient life we hold and cherish and revel within, at least until it rushes away again, beneath the next year’s snow.

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