[ coming soon ]
Being a fan of brutalist buildings, I had to investigate this abandoned telecommunications office and data center complex. It's barely a five minute drive from my home, and I've driven past it nearly every day for years, but never bothered to drop by to get a few decent photos of it.
The property is both liminal and brutalist, both of which I am a fan of. The empty property sits right next to a natural area - a sort of "frontier".
The empty parking lots felt like an endless wasteland of asphalt, once accommodating around a thousand vehicles at it's peak.
The more I wandered around, the more my brain became brutalized with the brainstorm that brewed within. I began to get Backrooms vibes, and the introduction of an idea for a story began to rumble around in my mind.
Sometimes, one just needs to get out there for a little inspiration and creative motivation. Brainstorming is brutal.
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Here are some of the Author's latest liminal shots of surrealism for you to stare at:
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'Twas the day before Halloween, and I was feeling weirdly whimsical, so I went and wandered around an obscure local spot I had never heard of. The place was a whimsical property called "Fun Farm" that had surreal structures arranged in a row, and the place reminded me of the quaint little town of Spectre, from Tim Burton's "Big Fish " film.
The evening was setting in, and the serenely surreal place was silent and still, apart from a cluster of swans swiftly escaping my attempt at snapping a few photos of them. A faint flash of lighting and a rumble of thunder enhanced the mood as twilight lingered.
It felt like I was literally waltzing through a weird and whimsical dream, lost in the wilderness of wonder and curiosity.
I hadn't realized this hidden gem was right here all this time, only a simple drive across town! As I wandered around, weirding out in this unique place, drops of rain began to suddenly pelt me in the face. I took shelter in one of the structures as a brief downpour came through that lasted only a few moments.
The rain lingered for a while, but lightened up, so I wandered around the area. I found serenity as I stared at the small lake, taking in the soothing sound of the soft pitter-patter of raindrops in this weirdly wonderful wilderness.
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The Author recently visited the Swedish American Museum in Chicago. The goal of the trip was to get inspiration and information on Swedish culture and genealogy (mission accomplished).
While side-eyeing the shit out of nearly everything within the gift shop, the Author stared obsessively at a bottle of Swedish-style spicy mustard, and he came to the realization that spiciness is in his nature, and that there is nothing that anyone or anything can do to contain it. It felt like it was just enough, a perfect balance of spiciness and surrealism; a sweet dream reminiscent of Swedish Semla, bearing a striking similarity to the Lagom philosophy of the joys of having just enough.
Staring at spicy Swedish mustard made the Author have a mental moment of clarity and a nostalgic memory from a spiritual visit he had when he visited Sweden in 2005. Ultimately, the decision was made to purchase a bottle of the Swedish spiciness.
The day of the visit was on a full moon, and alignment could be felt. Browsing through the books in the shop, the Author found a copy of "City of My Dreams" by Per Anders Fogelström. This find was unexpected, and it felt like... destiny.



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