B(l)ack Log?

So you may have noticed that I posted up a few shots a few days back when I should be spending my spare time developing my new home on the internet. Well I have good and bad news relating to this. First the bad (I’m that sorta guy); the new site is now going to take significantly longer to get up and running than I had initially planned. The good; the reason for the delay is I’ve gotten all grandiose about it and have a big vision and exciting plans. Let’s just say, it’s gonna be rad.

So in the mean time, I haven’t shared any of my efforts from the last four or so months and I’m getting quite the back log. To this end, I’m going to start writing up regular posts again, but they will likely be more content light than previous efforts, this way I can get them written and posted faster. Now that I’m sure I’ve thoroughly bored you with my rambling, I’ll move on to my first real post in what seems like forever. Please note that this outing was late last year.

We went to the pub. But this wasn’t any old pub. This pub had been semi-burnt out and abandoned. Instead of shitty, overly loud pop music, drunken, brawling punters and the smell of cheap alcohol on bad breath, we were surrounded by the music of black water drops, dripping from cracked roofs, myriad textures formed by old melted and peeling paint and wafts of old smoke and new dust clouding the olfactory. Much nicer.

BeerDen (1 of 7)

BeerDen (3 of 7)

BeerDen (4 of 7)

My ethereal and much-maligned graffiti friends had clearly found this place long before us and they were (as always) kind enough to leave behind some of their amazing art for no one to see. Some of the pieces here were stunning, but sadly I didn’t get many good shots of them. You’ll just have to use your wonderful imaginations.

BeerDen (5 of 7)

BeerDen (7 of 7)

As we poked about, we came across many interesting artefacts from the former life this ghostly behemoth once had. The now dark and dirty halls were filled with all nature of bizarre paraphernalia, discarded and left to lie in the gathering motes on the old wooden boards. Until a person comes along one day and either magically breathes life into the old beast, or (more likely) crushes its last, romantic vestige into dust and plonks some ugly, modern, thirty storey, pastel coloured (probably salmon pink)…. oblong onto it. Time is such a tyrant.

BeerDen (6 of 7)

BeerDen (2 of 7)


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