We have of course been here before, to see a concrete bus shelter and a derelict control room.
All that is solid melts into air as Marx and Marshall Berman told us.
Though remnants remain – this is a short journey through a hole in fence, down into the warren of power station offices past.
They have been stripped of their former use and meaning, transformed into a transitory art performance space, paint and plaster now peeling, appealing to the passing painter, partially reclaimed by nature.
Let’s tag along:
modernmooch.com 
Thanks to your skills and available light, as attractive a suite of photographs of redundancy, abandonment and dereliction as I’ve seen. I like a ruin. Except, for some reason, in the here and now, they’ve left me more than usually depressed [I’m not complaining Steve, I expect I’ll soon rally.] There’s something very late twentieth century about them. Very Detroit, Very St Peter’s Cardross. Actually, very Ancoats.
Maybe Corvid 19 has made me vulnerable to loss. And the notion of anything going viral makes me quail. So the loss of power in the power station offices is more than usually unsettling. I’d quite like a couple of prints though. PG
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Thanks for your kind words and support – as I age the passage of time and the loss or transformation of former sites, sights and companions becomes more and more poignant. Though for perspective I always consider the range of timescales within which we operate cosmic, geological, human and the instant in which the shutter is released. By all means take you pick I can get them printed.
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