Grafis Obscuratus

It’s been some time since going on an adventure; Covid shutdowns and the throes of society’s isolation are to blame. My avid fascination with Urbanex (aka Urbex) is a hobby that depends on the putrefaction of old buildings and abandoned businesses, the decay of human made structures. That hasn’t happened lately, not close around this part of town.

My city, like so many around the States, has begun to witness increasing abandonment of buildings. This made me think of Boom Towns in California after the Gold Rush era, and oil rigging towns in Texas. A lot of those towns dried up after the wealth left. Indianapolis city limits is splintered into a bunch of little burgs and each area of town’s economic flow will determine whether they end up the new place to live, or the newest ghost town. The newest location for Urbanex.

Many of my Urbanex jaunts have been to individual buildings. Some were as small as an abandoned house, others included large multiple structures. Places like Gary, Indiana, whose entire town looked to be barely hanging on, was my highlight trip to see and photograph urban decay. Just like that city, I can foresee future plots of decay on large abandoned places around my town…that is, if they’re left alone and not turned into some new business, or get destroyed. That’s for the future to decide. Old places I now see include malls, shopping plazas, public schools, and areas that used to be neighborhood stores, so there could be lots to choose from. Trouble is, they haven’t been in the oven long enough to be rotting from their structures. I have to have patience to let time take it’s course on these locations All the artistic visual of a dissolving structure becomes dull with human infection and once it starts, it can happen quick, so I want to shoot prime Grafis. Humans are like a form of cancer that infest sites and destroy at a faster rate than nature. There’s always one moron in the crowd out there that feels they must enter an abandoned old five story building and spray paint a dick on the wall. After a bit, small bonfires appear in the lobby of a hotel, ghosted out of business and left to rot. Eventually come patches of living quarters created by squatters, but all that comes later down the line for a city, so until something like that pops up, I wait.

While I wait for a new Urbanex site to form, I might venture into a fascination with obscure locations in thriving habitats and reading the mysteries hidden on buildings, walls and utilities, which I call Grafis Obscuratus. A desire to enjoy and savor the oddities of visuals in my world created by architecture and trash. As it is with urban explore sites I’ve visited, (and tried to respect by not vandalizing) I don’t want to be too specific on exact location or address, for fear of alerting those who would be less than appreciative of the spots I found; but safe to say, it’s in downtown Indy.

Trying to find spots with Grafis Obscuratus to shoot led me back to a place I had earlier introduction to while in search of vampires*. The building I went into was just as artistically bizarre as I had remembered-actually a bit more bizarre, I felt. New decor, new furnishings. Multiple floors of random interior design schemes, one appeared to be from the set of a James Bond movie. A conference room with a garage door that closed off the glass enclosure. The garage door opener switch was connected to the exterior of the wall, chain system hanging above some seats like the sword of Damocles. Inside that room was a very long conference table with neon soft blue light, white board and various office accoutrements. Hooks hanging from hooks hanging from a plaque hanging from a wall. Upending layout, Elvis on acid with too much strychnine in it.

I was eventually tossed out by security but not before feeding my new found obsession. My friend and I were respectful when asked to leave. No harm done.
*For more on this building, you can hunt posts in my archives for stories on my search for vampires.

I stumbled onto spots where downtown cooks and workers take smoke breaks, away from the normal flow of pedestrians, with atmospheres like metallic tunnels of concrete and iron. A red brick face of a four story building that still showed stains where a metal fire escape once was, an historical mystery from long ago. Visual clues of time that include seasonal stickers on poles, tagged buildings and re-tagged buildings. Furniture set outside for makeshift smoking lounges, storage docks with boom box break rooms behind thick wire framing, natural light hits everything like an Edward Hopper painting. The Feng Shui of cityscapes is out there, and it helps nurse me, here at the pulpit. Whatever you do to help hold on through troubled times, try to adhere to goals of respect, wherever your adventure takes you. Don’t be that one person who feels they must spray paint a dick on the wall.