ABANDONED

There is a strange melancholy in an abandoned home or a demolished apartment house, a melancholy that reveals the traces and scars of intimate lives to the public gaze. The tenderness of the experience results from the fact that we do not imagine the absent house, but instead the home, life, and faith of its inhabitants.​

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Text: Encounters by Juhani Pallasmaa.

Image: Lost Places by Sven Fennema

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the Edge

The great tapestries of trees had darkened to ghosts back at the last edge of twilight. The early moon had drenched the arches with pale blue, and, weaving over the night, in and out of the gossamer rifts of moon, swept a song, a song with more than a hint of sadness, infinitely transient, infinitely regretful.

text: F. Scott Fitzgerald, This side of paradise

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