The
sheets covering the furniture are laden with dust. The window panes are
splashed with pigeon droppings. A lone jute doormat lying carelessly in the
passage has gone so dry, it would disintegrate with the slightest touch. An old
rusty calendar on the kitchen counter indicates the year until when the place
was full of life and the year when it was emptied of it. The owner doesn't want
to rent it, he doesn't want to sell it either. He once lived here with his family,
but now only their things remain. An empty house looks like an empty house,
this apartment full of stuff that isn't being used, gives it a sad abandoned
air. Despite all the abandonment and lifelessness in this place there is
something here which makes me think that it is not progressing to ruin, it is
not the end yet. I see cups they drank their tea from, the forks they ate their
meals with, the chairs they sat on and chit-chatted, the windows they looked
through. These are inanimate objects but they did contribute, I’d like to
assume, to a full and happy life. These lifeless objects give me a feeling of
hope that the occupants of this place will return, to use their things once
again, to bring life to this place again. Isn't that why they left chunks of their
routine right here. I’d like to think they did.
I found this apartment in one of the buildings when we were searching for a new place. It aroused such emotion and inspiration, I regretted not carrying a camera. These pictures are clicked with my phone and edited on it using a photo editing app. Working outside Photoshop didn't give too much flexibility, but using presets made it quick ;)
I found this apartment in one of the buildings when we were searching for a new place. It aroused such emotion and inspiration, I regretted not carrying a camera. These pictures are clicked with my phone and edited on it using a photo editing app. Working outside Photoshop didn't give too much flexibility, but using presets made it quick ;)
