Dark Passage Travelogue

Finding a Place Below the Milky Way

2012-01-26T15:51:00.005-05:00

This travelogue is officially going on hiatus. There will be occasional photo updates here.

2011 was a chaotic year, but then again, aren't they all! Between a new book, Dark Passage event, adventures in bookbinding, setting up an arts center in Detroit, Furnace Press, collaborating with Bryan Papciak, travels & explorations, and of course working for a living, the site updates have fallen ridiculously behind. I’ll keep posting on the Tumblr page above until the plaster dust settles. I hope everyone has a fun and fabulous new year – and thanks for visiting!

Where Nietzsche Went to Relax

2011-02-18T12:32:00.002-05:00

The Skull Aquariums

2010-12-17T19:47:00.000-05:00

The catacombs in Naples, Italy, where these photos were taken, are filled with thousands of skulls and bones dating back to the 17th century. For a short time, members of a local cult would adopt skulls and build little houses for them in the hope of receiving otherworldly rewards, such as contact with dead loved ones or prophecies that might lead to earthly riches. While some of these houses were obviously built with care, a few skulls ended up in glass cases resembling aquariums. The blurring and texturizing effects of the glass had an interesting effect on the skulls that I'm still exploring in the photos. But a few images - with and without glass cases - are now online. Many thanks to Le Nuvole for access to this site!

More photos here.

The Golden Ballroom

2010-09-23T13:29:00.002-04:00

Time is running out for this forgotten property along a German riverfront. A roof collapse in the center of the sprawling building is slowly dragging the entire structure down into its pit. But this golden jewel in the back is still holding its own. It's nearly unmarked by graffiti, possibly because the only remaining access is a second-story window - of course best traversed in a sparkling pair of dancing shoes.

Hotel Psychedelia

2010-06-27T00:25:00.000-04:00

Colorful wallpaper reigned inside this old Catskills hotel, which unfortunately no longer stands. More images here.

Indiana Storefront

2010-06-23T19:28:00.000-04:00

Alaska Junkyard

2010-06-22T22:57:00.000-04:00

The Ladies of the Morning Light

2010-06-14T12:44:00.000-04:00

Found in the basement of an empty asylum on the Mediterranean coast.

Lady Luck and the End of the World

2010-01-23T01:04:00.001-05:00

Snowed In

2010-01-19T15:14:00.000-05:00

Beyond the Rain

2009-12-11T20:46:00.003-05:00

Cotton Candy Brain Jam

2009-12-07T19:12:00.001-05:00

Keeping Records

2009-12-05T15:36:00.004-05:00

Someone took the warning "Do Not Remove From Hospital" on the patient files a bit too seriously when this place was shuttered. Of course it seems to be a rarity whenever the staff of a closing hospital actually disposes of medical records in a way that keeps them confidential. Usually the echo of the giant "Fuck it" reverberates for years after the doors are slammed shut. Coming across records like this time and again, it was surprising to see what a stir was caused in Scotland last year after explorers announced finding such files in the abandoned Law Hospital. It would be interesting to hear whether the files were ever actually removed once the media attention was gone. It seems to be the sort of thing that few care about unless it happens to a relative.

After writing something on this for Archaeology magazine a few years ago, I mostly stopped taking photos of dumped files. But this recent find seemed unusually depressing - and this topic, in general, is grossly underexposed. Mentally ill patients are stepped on enough. No need to trample on their records as well.

Here are two facilities that have been closed for roughly the same time. Above, a file room in a California hospital. Below, an enormous archive of records in an abandoned asylum in Italy. How different societies treat their dead reflects important aspects of their culture. Perhaps the same thing can be said here. Can you picture what similar rooms might look like in Japan, Sweden, Nigeria? Notice the empty vodka bottle in the California trash heap? That concludes today's public service announcement. Take care of yourself and those you love.

The Orphanage

2009-11-20T00:08:00.001-05:00

This long-shuttered Catholic orphanage is still strikingly pretty, although its 1930s chapel is quickly declining into a vandalized dump site. Its days are numbered anyway; construction and demolition are about to begin to turn the campus into affordable housing. Above, a picture of the chapel from about three years ago; a few recent photos below.

Blacklight Isolation

2009-11-19T00:11:00.003-05:00

The isolation rooms of a sprawling mental hospital are now barren of everything except the lights. The dual light bulbs - black and clear - are unusual; even more surprisingly, they're still intact. Too bad there's no electricity; to see the hallway in the light of only these room lamps would have been an incredible sight.

Pinups

2009-11-17T13:25:00.002-05:00

Found inside a closet in an old psychiatric ward. Maybe the men residing at this hospital (cough) were not playing with a full deck and decided to split up the cards instead?

Just a Little Closer

2009-10-31T11:49:00.001-04:00

Happy Halloween.

Doorway in the Afternoon

2009-10-26T22:50:00.004-04:00

"... As I went forward, striding very strong, and making a good speed, I did hear presently a little noise upward in the night, and someways unto my left, that had seeming as that it were a strange low sound that did come down to me out of an hidden doorway above; for, indeed, though the sound did come from very nigh, as it did seem no more than a score feet above my head, yet was it a noise that did come out of a great and mighty distance, and out of a Foreign Place. And I did know the Sound; though never, as you may suppose, could I have heard it in all my life. Yet had I read in one of the Records, and again in a second and a third, how that certain of all they that had adventured from the Pyramid into the Night Land to seek for knowledge, had chanced to hear a queer and improper noise above them in the Night; and the noise had been strange, and did come from but a little way upward in the darkness; yet was also from a great and monstrous distance; and did seem to moan and hum quietly, and to have a different sounding from all noises of earth. And in the Records it was set forth that these were those Doorways In The Night ..."

From "The Night Land" by William Hope Hodgson

Flight

2009-10-22T10:16:00.001-04:00

Concealed Weapon

2009-10-19T23:18:00.005-04:00

At first it barely caught the eye. A small pencil drawing on a wall that was otherwise completely untouched. On my last excursions I've focused even more on the rare patient drawings that still cling to deteriorating asylum walls. This one at first seemed fake, something added by a recent visitor. But the surrounding paint was flaking enough to peel and find out.

It wasn't possible to peek beyond the bullet, since the more solid paint chips were starting to take pieces of the drawing with them. So its target will remain a mystery, at least until the wall continues to naturally discard its skin. I wonder what else this hallway conceals.

Found on the top floor of a charming mental hospital ward in the woods.

Trust

2009-10-10T10:57:00.000-04:00

But They Never Came

2009-10-09T23:27:00.001-04:00

Mediterranean Blue

2009-10-04T11:14:00.003-04:00

Skating into Oblivion

2009-10-03T09:27:00.003-04:00

Found in the attic bedroom of a decaying sanitarium.

Leap of Faith

2009-10-02T11:27:00.003-04:00

It failed in its first incarnation, as a church. It failed in its second as a library. Now in its third stage - a ruin - the building has found its calling.

While the walls are crumbling, the structure is doing a nice job of preserving the strangeness of cramming a place of secular learning into one of spiritual faith, with all that hard-edged knowledge scraping against the sweeping embrace of the church.

Now, instead of confession booths, there are claustrophobic study cells, the hymn sheets are replaced by peeling index cards. Artifacts of a desire for betterment, equally useless in the face of a collapsing roof and rampant mold.

More photos here.

Peeling into Fall

2009-09-01T20:19:00.000-04:00

Prison Farm

2009-08-27T22:29:00.002-04:00

Utterly isolated, apparently untouched for years – this place has the eerie kind of remoteness where every outside sound is startling and the thought of human habitation borders on the absurd.

The prison is small and old, a mere aging stain in a perfect countryside, a decaying heap of bricks surrounded by forests and a few tended fields. It’s entirely self-contained, from the dormitories to the kitchen and laundry room, the medical exam area, basement shop and tucked-away jail cells for those, presumably, who huffed too much pesticide and started flinging carrots. What's in rare supply are the traces of the inmates.

A strange order prevails. Many of the mattresses are still neatly folded even as the roof is caving in. Most notably, the very few instances of graffiti have already faded, and there are no bathroom or bedside scribbles by the prisoners. Has no one ever really stayed here? Is it all just a weird fata morgana of the cornfields? There isn’t anyone to ask. On a lovely summer day, only an odd sense of tranquility still permeates the corridors.

More photos here.

The Vanishing Pool

2009-08-21T22:08:00.001-04:00

More photos of abandoned pools here.

Captain Hook

2009-07-29T21:58:00.001-04:00

Watching You Fight For Your Life

2009-07-27T22:01:00.004-04:00

This is definitely what I would want to wake up to as a child with a life-threatening illness in this cheery old ward. How consoling it is to think that if you make it, some day you might have a family that is just as adorable and wholesome as those dolls. All the better if one of those dolls starts speaking to you after a week or two of lying there in a drugged stupor, for surely it has great advice. Although if it contains the words "die", "choke" or "kill", you might just be better off pulling the sheet over your head and crying yourself to sleep. Get well soon!

Rainbow Over the Concord

2009-07-25T17:24:00.001-04:00

Taken a few weeks before the demolition of the historic Concord Hotel in the Catskills in 2008. An earlier shot of the resort - during a snow storm - below.

Looking for the Key

2009-07-19T23:20:00.002-04:00

This art was lovely to stumble across in the rear ward of an old decaying hospital.

Old School Science

2009-07-17T22:56:00.002-04:00

It isn't often that you open a random desk drawer to find a a jar with a pig foetus inside. But this derelict lab holds lots of preserved surprises. Bees in a honeycomb, crabs, frogs and coiled snakes, some collapsing into indefinable brown piles much like certain areas of the building that houses them. Admittedly, the pile of worms in the Kraft orange juice jar is a bit disagreeable to look at. Much better to check out the various dried bugs and wonder how they came to be brought in for their final show and tell.

Found in a school that also houses a well-stocked library, a collection of super-hero lunchboxes, and a decrepit prayer room in the basement.

The Distant Sound of Dripping Water

2009-07-13T15:19:00.001-04:00

From a new collection on abandoned swimming pools.

Too Disney to Die

2009-07-12T20:37:00.003-04:00

Waiting for the Light To Change

2009-07-08T12:04:00.002-04:00

A marvelous piece of art found in the decrepit isolation ward of a state hospital. Easy to miss at first glance, it's a replica of the setting that covers what used to be the TV screen behind the chair. I especially like the faithful rendering of the debris.

Below, a close-up of the image followed by a picture of the same scene two years ago.

Black Mold Fever

2009-07-02T14:51:00.003-04:00

It's nice to see that the Stages of Decay have been getting so many visits lately. A few more theaters - such as the one above, recently found in a silent corner of the Midwest - will be added to the mix in the next few days.

Modern Fossils

2009-07-01T01:09:00.003-04:00

Playground 2

2009-06-22T17:58:00.001-04:00

Group Therapy

2009-06-15T12:49:00.002-04:00

Are your imaginary friends getting a little too intense? If so, maybe it's time to take a deep breath and spend some time with these dudes, who clearly only have your best interest at heart. Since these murals no longer exist in person, photos will have to suffice. Found at the splendid Dixmont State Hospital in Pennsylvania shortly before its demolition by Walmart in 2006.

Escape Hatch

2009-06-08T17:12:00.003-04:00

Stages of Decay

2009-05-05T15:07:00.002-04:00

A slide from a new series over at abandonedtheaters.com.

Enchanted Cave

2009-04-29T11:15:00.001-04:00

Silent Hymn

2009-04-27T15:28:00.001-04:00

Building a Church

2009-04-26T11:53:00.003-04:00

This block, part of a desolate stretch of shuttered businesses in West Detroit, was once occupied by the Bible Community Mission. While the mission has long been abandoned, an apparent devotee has decided to keep spreading the word, tagging the nearby storefronts with religious messages. A vacant bar across the street now has a hand-painted sign declaring "wine is a mocker". Around the corner, a derelict training center serves as a new billboard for Jesus, although the interior - filled with car parts and trash - may be a little beyond redemption.

On a much smaller scale, these blocks are reminiscent of both the Heidelberg Project and Holy Land; only this place is deep below the radar, its author anonymous. The writing - all biblical quotes - is distinguished by starkness more than a creative vision. Yet the force of the personality behind the words comes through loud and clear. If these walls are a church in progress, it will be interesting to see it evolve.

More photos here.

849

2009-04-19T18:39:00.002-04:00

Found in what appears to be the play room of a shuttered factory in Connecticut, assembled from a monkey, a doll, a severed hand, two rifles, a globe, a horse, feathers, a frog, and Godzilla waving from the number 4.

An Ode to Perseverance

2009-04-16T23:43:00.005-04:00

The Michigan Central Depot, Detroit's grandest symbol of decay and one of the all-time greatest American ruins, has been in the news again lately with renewed plans for its demolition. It's time Detroit embraces its status as the prime travel destination for those who treasure the magnificent deterioration of a rich architectural heritage. Razing this historic icon would only impoverish the cityscape. It's inconceivable to imagine Detroit without it, although that time may come soon.

From the Detroit News, April 16, 2009: "The City Council last week voted to raze the 96-year-old building and force billionaire Manuel 'Matty' Moroun to pay the $3.6 million cost. A public hearing Tuesday could clear the way for demolition within 30 days." More here.

Here are a few recent photos with the hope that - whether as ruin or renovation - the station will persevere.

Down Alternative

2009-02-14T11:40:00.002-05:00

Two comfy pillows just in time for Valentine's Day.

Double Vision

2009-01-27T00:44:00.012-05:00

With the great wealth of magnificent churches sprinkled across Bavaria, it's easy to miss this little chapel on a cemetery hill. We found it by coincidence. Although it's closed to the public, a peek through a window revealed a tantalizing view - human skulls arranged above a painted scene of hellfire, partly covered by a panel depicting the resurrection and a horde of grey corpses shuffling across the landscape. Incentive enough to ring at the nearby cloister and ask for permission to take a closer look. Sure enough, a nun emerged with a set of keys and unlocked the magical door, but prohibited any more photos. Ah well. The skulls were engraved with memento mori scripture, dates and beautiful ornamentation, lovingly imprisoned on their own death rows. They will be left to their mysteries.

And there were plenty of mysteries outside as well. The cemetery wall had been rebuilt, integrating tombstones from the 17th and 18th centuries into the masonry. They were worth a closer look.

In addition to the fantastic but familiar symbols of death, these old stones had a recurring theme of repetition that seemed very unusual - an animal or person framed inside a crest that was then topped by the same figure in a slightly altered form - perhaps the mirror of death and life, showing the pedestrian state of living on earth in contrast to the perfected state of the afterlife - the peasant turns into a king, the bird with a sword plunged in its breast is whole again, its feathers are smooth, its head is also topped by a crown.

Thoughts by anyone who knows about this type of tombstone art would be much appreciated. More photos here.

Fractured Coaster

2009-01-22T10:34:00.003-05:00

Sometimes, late at night, it's still possible to hear the ghostly clicking of the chain as it pulls its last empty car to the top of the ride.

Illinois

2009-01-21T10:38:00.006-05:00

Waking up with this new president in place, it already feels like a better world than yesterday. And there are such beauties in his most recent home state.

I first heard of Obama a few years ago in connection with my very favorite hospital that I had recently discovered in Illinois and which inspired a continuous work in progress, Funeral Play. The senator made a special trip to view the eyesore in this small town and pledged to accelerate its redevelopment. I watched in dread as he kept his promise to the people of Illinois; a hasty return trip found the hospital in the last stage of abatement. These magical places are fleeting, of course, and the people in this very depressed town certainly needed a facility that actually works. It was a reminder to experience each abandoned hospital visit to the fullest and be grateful for even a few hours in the enchantment of decay.

Here are a few random shots from Illinois - above, an amazing facade where the Civil War meets the San Fernando Valley. Below, the ceiling blob from outer space, a gutted theater, a school entrance, a toaster-oven style incubator in the (now redeveloped) hospital, and the wing of an old asylum.

Beneath the Wallpaper

2009-01-07T12:59:00.003-05:00

In the attic of a former tuberculosis hospital, a torn strip of wallpaper reveals a little boy. And so the ghost story begins.

I Want to Curate Rot

2009-01-05T23:22:00.002-05:00

In this museum – otherwise known as a shuttered regional hospital – a special room is dedicated to the science of deterioration. Enter this glass-framed exhibition space and you can admire an astonishing specimen of wall decomposition with its characteristic folds of drooping paint. Stay as long as you like, the show will only get better. There is even a bench for those who would like to sit and sketch or simply contemplate the epidermal changes in the scenery. All that’s missing are a few informative plaques. We’ll be sure to bring them the next time we come.

Three Doors, Three Years

2009-01-03T23:08:00.002-05:00

Above, the upper floor of a mental hospital building as seen in December 2006. Below are the same three doors in December 2007 (top) and December 2008. The green door took a hit; otherwise there are surprisingly few changes even though this area no longer has a roof.

If it's still possible to return in December 2009, it will have been a good year.

Fairy Tale Sanatorium

2008-12-21T19:16:00.003-05:00

Conquest

2008-12-19T22:18:00.005-05:00

In this formerly communist-run hospital, a soldier guards a dilapidated fuse box. It's unclear whose side he's on; maybe he's just trying to protect himself from falling paint chips. In the meantime, a power outlet has been conquered further down the hall.

But an even more subtle infiltration can be seen in the outer territories of the soldier's post.

The drawings around the windows at first blend in like intricately textured wallpaper; upon closer inspection the eye gets lost in repeating swirls and flourishes that are reminiscent of art Brut. It stretches quite a ways down the hallway and must have taken a very long time to complete.

Hats off to the creator for adding another layer of beauty to these slowly rotting walls.

Autumnal

2008-12-15T00:36:00.004-05:00

The red leaves are forever falling in this children's hospital in Germany.

Escape from Decay

2008-12-14T23:54:00.001-05:00

This woman has found a graceful way to plunge out of the deterioration that encroaches like a rotting tide.

Found in a children's mental hospital not too far from a place where there are organ concerts in a cave.

Revisiting the Ostwall

2008-12-12T23:47:00.019-05:00

The last visit to the Ostwall -- an underground fortification system in Poland built by the Nazis to defend against a Russian invasion -- was so impressive that it was high time to return.

Germany began building the system in 1935 with a planned length of around 80 miles (second only to the Maginot line) at a depth of about 70 feet beneath the bucolic countryside. About 20 miles of underground tunnels were finished, with a rail line, machine shops, munitions warehouses, hospitals and barracks. After WWII, much of the system was ransacked and destroyed.

Back in 2002, a detailed map of the various entrances, in the form of partially imploded stairwells and bunkers, would lead to any number of treacherous but viable access points. At the time of that first visit the underground passages were a destination for military geeks, tunnel explorers and locals, who would descend on weekends to spraypaint and drink beer.

Sure, it was a dangerous place to visit and some people died, plunging down uncovered shafts, missing their step on crumbling staircases and, in one case, burning to death in a small chamber. But instead of sealing up the system, the sites of death were marked with a cross. There is no greater warning system. If you peer down a shaft and see a cross all the way down there in the beam of your flashlight, your blood runs cold. Fences will be climbed but crosses are respected.

Now, unfortunately, that same trusty map yields one sealed bunker after another. It's quite a feat to weld metal bars across a hole in the ground in the middle of a forest. It's also quite a feat to still find access to the underground labyrinth. About 20 bunkers were visited - some take an hour or so to hike to from a dirt road - until one was found with a missing metal bar, leaving just enough space to squeeze through and then balance on a wooden log over an open pit before finding the staircase down.

But suddenly, once you've arrived, you can be pretty sure that you're the only one down there. Miles of tunnels below the countryside all to yourself.

Whereas before, given enough time, you might have run into a tagger, now that the tunnels are sealed off, the murals have become a strange kind of time capsule.

The graffiti is the only sign remaining of any tenuous human occupation, the only trace of this kind in the entire complex. The Nazis left it barren and stark -- like a strange underground spaceship with its ovary shapes and gleaming grey concrete, something that was never meant to be part of this earth.

The graffiti has sabotaged this unearthliness almost with a kind of desperation, a frantic attempt to obliterate the inhuman blank spaces. This echo of voices and gestures lends a measure of comfort to someone passing through, someone who is acutely aware of the utter desolation and remoteness of the site.

But knowing that the few stairwells are blocked, and -- very far away -- there is only one known way out, the illusion of companionship fades rather quickly. You're navigating this egg-ship by yourself. Just be sure you remember the position of the sun.

Humming Kidneys

2008-09-23T19:48:00.002-04:00

Behind the scenes of Irma, a new release from Furnace Press.

Mall of the Apocalypse

2008-09-23T01:16:00.005-04:00

Apparently the zombies already rolled through here a few years ago, when this site was used as the set of a horror flick. So the worst has passed.

Instead of an unattractive, flesh-eating mob of cadavers, which would seem the most appropriate life form here, all that can now be expected are the ghosts of desiccated cashiers and shoe salesmen, squinty tech experts from the 70s and the dreaded proponents of rayon slacks. Luckily the escalator is out of commission to spare us the horrors on the second floor.

To all those who were stricken by the recent Wall Street crash and credit collapse, this place is way ahead of you. Ironically, of course, its skeletal remains are infinitely more pleasurable than any functional shopping center could ever aspire to be. Especially since all that is left to sell are broken toys, drowning and rotting in the aftermath of the apocalypse.

Take It to the Top

2008-09-06T12:03:00.004-04:00

Miniature Ruins

2008-09-05T19:17:00.005-04:00

The setting is a shuttered theme park in the South. Long before the Bird's Nest, this leisure park was designed to introduce Americans to the delights of Chinese architecture. To that end, little replicas of buildings were scattered across the grounds.

The workmanship of China, made in the USA, is exquisite. The decorations on the tiny houses are best seen with a magnifying glass. And here too, the truly fine details of a building are often only noticed when the shell is cracked and ornamental refinements spill into the light. Now that they are abandoned, some of the structures are deteriorating as a real building might, with matchstick beams collapsing and sending bursts of tiny tiles to the dirt floor. It must all happen very quietly.

As the houses get engulfed by weeds, they become miniature archaeological sites, to some day be unearthed with tweezers and a microscope. Maybe someone will then cherish a centimeter-long shingle as the pinnacle of ancient theme park art. For now, as the walls continue to cave in, at least their enchantment is preserved.

Playground

2008-09-03T15:53:00.003-04:00

Reading Gary

2008-09-03T15:09:00.014-04:00

In the great heap of architectural detritus that makes up downtown Gary, Indiana, this small abandoned structure did not immediately seem striking. Marked "East Side Branch Library", it sits amidst burnt-out houses and is itself entirely gutted. But I thought that my friend Gayle, who works at the New York Public Library and writes on urbanlandscaped, would enjoy some snapshots.

Upon closer inspection, the building revealed interesting details - open books carved above doorways, scrolls and flowers, a bare lightbulb dangling above a radiant sun with a book at its center. "Knowledge is Power" is inscribed above the shuttered door.

Most intriguing was the relief of two children immersed in their books below a picture window. With the boarded space above them they look as if they're huddling in a cellar. In this wasteland, with their heads bowed under the weight of abandonment, all they have left to hide out with is their books. It's the only scene on the building that does not show the sun.

More photos here.

Buried in the Woods

2008-09-02T23:17:00.020-04:00

Recent talk about how to commemorate the patient cemetery of Western State Hospital, where patients were buried for 160 years with only a number on their tombstones, once again calls attention to the sporadic dehumanization of the mentally ill. In this case, among other things, the separation of a body from its name.

Burying patients without clear identification was standard practice across the country. Nonetheless, stumbling across one of those grave sites unexpectedly - like the one pictured here - can be quite jarring. It drives home how the bodies remain the property of the hospital, since only the hospital has the key to match the name and number. Did those who entered the facility know that they would become a number to all but the magical keeper of the record book?

Say you were a patient in this isolated mental hospital in the deep south, an asylum for the "colored insane". It would be the late 19th century, and the place, remote even by today's standards, would be a day's trip away to the nearest larger town. Chances are that the relatives you had would not travel to a hospital complex in the swamp to see you deterioring in your cramped ward, fighting off bugs, heat and your noisy fellow inmates, with not a drop of moonshine to take the edge off those rusted bars between you and the free land.

You might make friends with someone weaker than you, or perhaps with the nurse who would notice that your shoes were too tight and your overalls needed washing. Or you might make an imaginary friend who would take you on night-time journeys into the woods just outside the fence. It has been years, maybe decades, since you have walked on ground that was new to you.

These few friends are the only ones who still attach any emotional meaning to your name. Sure, you're in files and registers, and one of the doctors might even address you correctly without having to consult his paperwork first. You never have to sign anything. Hell, you never even really learned how to read. Your fellow patients start to make up nicknames for you and they're as good as anything else. You start to listen again when certain words are spoken. They might refer to you.

Then one day there's a rumor. One of the new nurses is a witch. She places bowls of water on the chests of the dying to lure their freshly released souls into taking a bath before departing for the afterlife. At the moment of death she sprinkles salt into the water to bind the bathing spirit to the earth. This makes the spirit forget its name. Only if it remembers it again when the body is laid in the soil can it flee her grip and ascend to heaven.

This is worrisome, even though you were baptized long ago and your name was attached to you by God. Could you really forget it? And if you did, isn't that what they wrote it on tombstones for?

Some say that the purpose of tombstones is to weigh down your soul. Darkness and greed will cling to you even when you're gone. But if you speak your name you will go free. Can you remember, John James William George Adam Joseph Jackson? Or do you need to wander the asylum halls, looking for the right kind of book? The ledger that matches your name with a number on a stone, to protect your identity from those who didn't care about you while you lived, much less now that you're dead?

Don't worry, 6485, your soul will find its way. May you rest in peace.

Raptured

2008-09-01T21:39:00.005-04:00