If these walls could talk

Hey Stace,

You know what I love, really love? Discovering new things about people. I know, I know, it's as though since May all roads in my life lead back to CrossFit. One thing that I love about CrossFit is that when you're there, all that matters is that you give it your all, you don't whine and whimper (OK, sometimes I do whimper), and your support your fellow CFers.

Life outside the "box" doesn't really matter. We don't ask each other "so what do you do?" (meaning, for a living). We ask, "what's your Fran time?" or "What's your back squat?". So, sometimes it is a cool, refreshing surprise when I find out the careers of my CF brothers (or sisters) in arms. For example, consider Sara. In a flukey twist of fate I discovered in passing that she's a photographer. But not just ANY photographer (no sappy wedding shots here, thank you very much) but breathtaking landscapes (who knew Saskatchewan is so beautiful?! Do you think Duff, where our grandmas were born still exists? Do I smell a roadtrip? ) and - my favorite - abandonded spaces.

She has a beautiful series of the interior of the Don Jail here into Toronto and some of A sanitorium in saskatoon. These places are so old it makes me wonder about the lives that have passed through their doors, as inmates, as patients, as employees. I'd love to know their stories, what led up to their being admitted to these places, what their day to day existence was, what they thought about. The places look so sad and eerie. Take a look at Sarafied to see Sara's amazing work.

It reminded me of our Detroit expereince this past spring. Peter & I were driving with the girls to St. Louis for them to play princess for a day as flower girls in Eric's wedding. As we were passing through customs at the border in Detroit we saw this amazing, grand old tower block that was completely vacant. You could see right through the far off windows to the gutted interior. We assumed they were turning it into lofts, which would sell like hotcakes here in Toronto.

Driving through Detroit was so sad. Keep in mind, this is a post-Obama USA and there was very little evidence of any type of American dream I would want to be a part of. More houses/buildings were boarded up than I had ever seen. Streetlights were broken, buildings were broken, cars were broken down at the side of the road, even the people looked broken. It was the most sad, depressing place I have ever seen. This is in comparison to slums I've seen in "third world" countries where the people were poor by our standards, but incredibly happy and rich spiritually and closely connected to their families and communities. Would love to send Sara to Nepal to capture some wonderful photos of the monks, temples, sadhus and the Jomson Trek we did.

I later found out from my brother that there are TONS of completely vacant and abandoned buildings in Detroit. You can check them out at Forgotten Detroit. Here's a preview...






Amazing, aren't they?! Again, I'd be interested in the back stories; knowing what these places were like in their heyday & what happened afterwards. One of my friends talked about going to underground punk parties in some of these buildings when they were inhabited by squatters. Seems creepy to me. I can't really fathom the desire to be so destructive, smashing things (reno of my house excepted) and leaving my mark via spraypainting. Interesting. Food for thought.

~ j. xoxoxoxo