Abandoned Places
Some of my favorite works of art depict “glorious ruins” (a phrase I picked up from Alistair Begg - he used it in reference to man in his fallen state). Abandon churches overgrown, remnants of stained glass bearing witness to the complete cycle of faith. Abandon industrial complexes, the hopeless victims of an economy that has passed them by or technological advances that have rendered the facilities obsolete. Abandon barns, farms, and sheds that gave man and beast a place to call their own - now failing from disrepair.
When I was younger, we’d pass by an empty building that used to house a Winn-Dixie, Food Lion, or some type of textile mill, and I always wondered what it would be like to inhabit such a marvelous structure. I thought to myself that I could call that whole space my own, because nobody else wanted it. I fantasized about climbing up on the roof, or where the restroom facilities would be. I’d think about where my sleeping quarters would be, and what fantastic things I could do with the ladders, windows, loading docks, etc. It would be my ‘fortress of solitude’, my sanctuary, my castle. To be quite honest, I had those same thoughts about whatever school I visited as well - how cool would it be to have this whole building to myself!?!?
There’s something about repurposing industrial refuse to enhance or facilitate domesticity. Private industry spends so much in the name of business, MUCH more than any one individual could. Is it wrong to want to take the failings of a corporation and benefit from them? People do it all the time at auctions - you can take the spoils of economic war to build your own palace, if you had the funds to do so.
Life has brought me to the point where I have become a scavenger. Just like goats, hyena, catfish, vultures, and crawfish, I’ll take whatever is available. My kids eat first, and they know whatever they don’t finish they bring to me to eat - I can’t stand food to be wasted. I can’t remember the last shirt I bought myself, but right now I’m wearing my latest hand-me-down. I’d prefer to go to a used music shop over purchasing a brand new disc. While pawn shops are a rip-off, I do enjoy the occaisional indulgence there. I never understood what the end of aluminum crutches are supposed to be once the patient recovers - the aluminum product lasts a LONG time, even if the pads don’t. I’ve never owned a new car, and my house is over 50 years old. I’ve never purchased a new computer - mine have always been refurbished or a display model as far as I can remember. I hate throwing away plastic bags because I know that (unless they rip) they can be used again for something. In fact, I hate throwing anything away (well, except for biodegradable stuff that will be reused by nature like banana peels or whatever). I hate waste.
There are a lot of efficiency gains in being a scavenger.
I guess you could call it “reclamation” or “recycling”, but it’s still scavenging. It’s essentially taking would-be waste materials and creating something beneficial from it. I know that very few things in this world are 100% efficient, but I guess people like me take up the slack that others miss. But would I be a scavenger if efficiency wasn’t so necessary to my family’s continued survival? Probably not, but I think at this point in my life efficiency is ingrained in my very soul. Even if I was a millionaire, seeing a half-empty soda bottle would still very much aggravate me.
And while I could continue writing, I’ll spare you the pity party. Suffice to say that even though birds and flowers don’t spin or toil, they aren’t expected to drive a car (with an air conditioner), go to college, or maintain the plumbing in their place of residence!
In closing, here’s an exerpt from Percy Bysshe Shelly’s poem Ozymandius:
“…and on the pedestal these words appear:
‘My name is Ozymandias, king of kings -
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!’
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”
