Detritus
October 7, 2012 * * * * * Posted by: guest blogger 
I practice photography in a not very photogenic and a very economically depressed area of rural Texas. There is a large reservoir here that was built in the 1960s in the middle of worn out cotton fields to send fresh water to Dallas. When it filled there was a boom of “resort” trailer parks and tiny cheap week-end cabins and low budget fishing camps. Now, decay is everywhere, and not the beautiful genteel decay found in the ageless patina of old European capitols or the artful vintage architecture newly re-discovered in trendy inner cities.
The decay here is too recent. Too close to how we live now. I live with the deterioration of a low income environment that never had the money to be beautiful even when new. It is a landscape rampant with weeds and junk and abandonment of that which is younger than I am.
The poignancy is almost overwhelming at times. Too much a reminder of my own mortality. It often seems too hard to find a compelling image that is not depressing. Yet somehow I am compelled. I quit, but I always come back. The quitting grates, eats away at the edges, until I give up and quit quitting. Until I pick up the camera and get to it. I cannot fathom why. It’s just a basic need, a pressure in my chest like hunger is a hole in my belly. I have no idea where it is going, and mostly I don’t even care. It simply is.
There are small beauties to be found. That certain color in the rust. The pattern of light coming down through the collapsing roof. The curl of a wild native vine rim lit by the light from a broken window. But I have to work for them, ferret them out, risk snakes and stings and rashes for them... It seems strange to be so taken by this at my stage of life. To be beginning when most I know in my generation are stopping. I read a blog post recently that wondered if the entire generation [mine] of people born with Pluto in Leo are destined to never grow up. If that is so, I have to say it’s not all bad.
My art becomes a reaffirmation among the detritus, at least to me.
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Guest Audrie Mallory comes to us today from Lake Tawakoni, TX, where she lives life on the edge of [her] toe-the-line culture. Visit her Audrie Mallory blog where she explores her evolving philosophy in Rosewater Art & Photography. Thank you, Audrie, for joining us today.
Audrie Mallory, decay, detritus, rural Texas
Reader Comments (23)
This resonated so very strongly with my own life. There have been and there will be times when it would be so much easier to simply give up. However, no longer looking for the small beauties in life would make it so much easier to become overwhelmed by ugliness (physical, emotional, and/or mental). And there is beauty to be found in every day.
You are so right. There is photogenic beauty everywhere if we choose to look for it. Not in the conventional sense, but as you say, in line, form colour, shape, shadow, sunny highlights, even rubbish blowing in the wind. Keep clicking your camera and avoiding snakes and stings!
Lucky you to have all of this aging beauty at your fingertips. I think there's always such beauty in the decay..stories and histories buried within...and - yes - lessons and metaphors about our own selves and age. Wonderfully written and illustrated!!!
Thank-you Audrie for visiting us today!
One side of me had to smile while reading your post today, Audrie. A group of 'girls' (six of us) are throwing our gear in the car tomorrow and driving 8 hours for a photography adventure. One stop on our adventure is an abandoned mining town...think rust, decay, broken windows, and yes, snakes, stings, and even rashes. What is it with photographers? Why are we drawn to those subjects? Is it universal? I don't know, but I do know that I enjoyed reading your post today and even hopped over to your personal blog. Welcome to Vision and Verb! Thanks for joining us today.
I bet your could do a coffee-table book on all the detritus around you, Audrie, and make a mint off of it...just because we're somehow drawn in to it. Why, I wonder? Is it because it IS a reminder of our own mortality, as you have so beautifully written?! Some would see all this detritus as a great photo op. It is, of course, but I can see how it would also weigh on your subconscious, seeing it day in and day it. You clearly are making the best of it as an affirmation of your creativity and art. THANK YOU for sharing it with us. And thanks for joining us today!
Yes, we're all very happy that you quit quiting and that you are sharing here today ~ working hard for the beauty makes it even better! I certainly have a soft spot for the rust and the grunge as does my photographer husband, he's going to love this image, too!
You describe so well that compelling nature of old rusty things that draw us back time and time again. I, too, think I'll quit trying to photograph old stuff until I'm once again facing something thick with rust and just can't resist.
The image you have shared here reminds me that nature takes over what man leaves behind.
Lovely post! Welcome to Vision and Verb!
How well you speak of the hidden beauty lying in the surroundings amongst the forgotten of our world, Your capture of it, shows the love and hunger you described. There is a pain coming across that makes it beautiful. Thank you Audrie and welcome here with us at Vision and Verb :-)
Detritus is one of my favorite words... along with cacophony. There is so much beauty to be found within what often, at first, appears to be ugly. It is being an artist that keeps you willing to look. And it can be so sad to watch such decline, both in our landscapes and in our bodies, but when we are willing to continue to see, there is also beauty.
Here's to never quitting, or growing all the way up.
An awful beauty, meant in only the very best way.
I think you've proven that the decay around your area actually IS photogenic. One of the wonderful challenges of practicing photography is the way it pushes you to redefine what you see right in front of you, which you did nicely near the end of this post.
aging beauty seen through your eyes and heart and captured with your camera - I enjoy it. It seems when I travel these are the things I'm drawn to anyway.
Growing up? who needs it? really. Thanks for sharing your Texas town with us today.
Beautiful words & image, haunting really.... What you speak of is love, unconditional love..."It simply is."
thank you for this.
this is such a haunting, compelling story.....i feel what you write.
thanks for sharing the beauty that hungry eyes can find,
Jennifer
if we know how to look, there is even beauty in decay. You seem to have found that knack of finding that beauty.
We have to appreciate the things we can find amid decay, since biologically I think we pass our prime in the early 20s of life. So for most of us there is going to be a long time that our mind has to spend traveling around in a beaten up and breaking down vehicle, but some of the best journeys have been undertaken in old wrecks.
I know that the people who lives are affected by such deterioration will be glad to know that you do care. Keep going back...
As much as there are elements of beauty to be found in any photograph, the documentary aspect of these images is just as important and quite compelling. If we only took pictures of that which was pretty and delightful there would be no balance or perspective.
Well done for following your heart and photographing that which speaks to you.
gosh your post really stands out....a sadness to watch what is around you but also hope and finding those little things of beauty; using your camera to show that there is beauty even amongst the chaos. I hope we get to see more of these remarkable pictures.
What draws me to places like you photograph is the questions they present. Who lived here? What happened to them? What did this area used to be like? It's the same thing that seeing old pots and pans and automobiles and so on bring to mind. I wonder about the people and history. I want to capture and preserve some sort of significance to their moments and my moment in the photo, if that makes any sense.
Thanks for being here at Vision and Verb as your post and the comments may have given me a kickstart back out of my current quit mode.
While I read your post I had the same idea as Ginnie - make a book out of it. It would be unusual, yes, but showing the beauty in the ugly is a very high form of art in my eyes. When I look at your picture, the first thing I saw where those beautiful colors. How the plant grows over the building, the fresh green of the trees, the warm sienna of the brick. Of course this picture talks of so much more - it's where the thoughts can wander.
Thank you everyone for your wonderful, kind comments. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it. I am rather isolated here, and you have given me a connecting that I didn't even realize I was missing. My heart is full in a very good way and I have been smiling all day.
Audrie, thank you for your contribution to Vision and Verb! First, my apologies for being late in my comments. I've been traveling with little access to the internet. But I wanted to mention that I enjoyed looking at your blog and checking out Shutterfinger's work as well. I can see why he would be such a mentor! Your post hit home for me as I'm a lover of decay and I'm drawn to it wherever I go. I feel there's so much beauty to be found in it whether it's an object or a person. And you said it so beautifully..."There are small beauties to be found. That certain color in the rust. The pattern of light coming down through the collapsing roof. The curl of a wild native vine rim lit by the light from a broken window."