Lindsay's Final Photo Essay

This project started out as just a way to rebel and to take photos of rubble. But each time I kept going back to this forbidden garden, it kept pulling me in. It was drawing me in in such a way. Each time I plucked up more and more courage, going farther into the maze, and as I did so it was like I was peeling a layer away from the building itself. The rubble became beautiful. It became comforting. My adrenaline would always be pumping through my veins, but each time I became more and more friendly with the rubble palace, it was like showing me a wondrous new world I never knew could be in Michigan, or even in my very town for that matter.

As I kept on returning to the kingdom I finally had the courage to break through the walls and inside the actual castle. I searched the empty, dreary and filthy halls of the abandon factory. Everything was absolutely disgusting. There were piles of dirt, dirty construction tools left over, water rippling in the basement, everything was so ghost like. But it was so comforting. It was like I was the only one in the world and this was the world. It was like seeing a whole new side of life. The horrible into the beautiful. As I danced through the halls I remember snaking up a dark, steep and claustrophobic stairwell. There was light seeping through the bottom of it. I barely touched the doorknob and the door gave a loud creek as it opened unveiling the roof, unveiling the city. As I stood on top of the roof I stared out at the city and I felt so uncomfortable. I felt naked. It wasn’t because I shouldn’t have been there, but it was like everyone could see me, all my secrets, all my shame.

At times, while I was inside, I was terrified, it was so dark it was like the darkness was closing in and trying to drown me. I was scared of my concrete kingdom. I didn’t know some of the secrets it hid, I couldn’t even bring myself to fully trust I, but I had faith. I always had faith that I’d be safe, that I wouldn’t get hurt too badly. And to be honest this project has taught me to have more courage more faith and more willingness.

I think that this factory could be seen like a person. You peal away parts from people and you find their secrets, some could be sad or just filthy, but when you learn these things about them, things start to transform and you see beauty in what a mess they are. And that’s probably why I felt so vulnerable on the roof. I had no protection, no hiding. I wasn’t guarded. It was just me.

One of the outside walls of Klingman's Furniture Factory.

Vines have overtaken the outside of Klingman's Furniture Factory.

A roof at Klingman's Furniture Factory has grown old.

Graffiti takes over the outside walls of Klingman's Furniture Factory.

The inside of Klingman's Furniture Factory is empty and dreary.

The inside of Klingman's Furniture Factory is also decorated with graffiti.

Pipes all over Klingman's Furniture Factory are connected to nothing.

Wires are also left behind at Klingman's Furniture Factory.

Sinks are still left over at Klingman's Furniture Factory.

The wood beams at Klingman's Furniture Factory is pealing.

The empty halls at Klingman's Furniture Factory.

Weights at Klingman's Furniture Factory are broken and useless.

A look at the outside of Klingman's Furniture Factory.

The floors of Klingman's Furniture Factory are covered with dirt.

The roof at Klingman's Furniture Factory is a view of downtown Grand Rapids like none other.

A light left on from construction workers at Klingman's Furniture Factory.

Stains at Klingman's Furniture Factory cover the walls. 

Pipes are still leaking and staining walls at Klingman's Furniture Factory.

The halls at Klingman's Furniture Factory don't have any working lights.