From my previous post on exploring abandoned places with my Fuji EX-1, here’s the abandoned home near Spring Arbor, Mich.

There was also a business of some sort attached to the property (it’s listed as commercial real estate, I think I saw on the sign). A boat out back, a big field, and a large empty storefront.

I always wonder why these types of places are taken over by homeless folks. The threat of arrest? Guarding your turf from other vagabonds?

A lot of the house, especially past the kitchen, were too dark to explore. But there were enough fun little details, like the hat sitting on the counter, to make this a worthwhile location.

I may have to ask my realtor friends what the story is on this property.

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Get out into the woods.

It’s the best prescription for what ails you. Sunshine, fresh air, the creak of the tall trees in the wind, the birds – it was all there before us, before you, before your issues.

It’ll always be.

This time of year is extra special, especially after such a bleak, brutal winter. The world is waking up, winning back the sun from the snow.

Persephone got lost on the way to the overworld. But now she’s back and kicking.

The MacCready Reserve is my own local getaway spot. There are hills and lakes and long rows of pines with snakes and frogs and deer and birds. It’s quiet, except when the wind is blowing. Then you can hear it throughout the park.

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Trains: Craig

Craig

Craig grew up across the street from the Pontiac rail yards. He’s been watching them for a lot of years.

When he was 18, he got into model trains, but never really had a place to run them. In 2002, he moved to Jackson, and found the Central Michigan Model Railroad Club.

“Then I had a place to play with them,” Craig says.

Trains: Craig

Before then, Craig studied geography in college. He also collected stamps and license plates. “It’s an OCD thing,” he says, with all the colors, symbols, and numbers. Organizing. Categorizing.

Craig works in the travel industry in Novi.

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TGIF Friday Jams: The Cult – “Fire Woman”

Doesn’t get much more rock and roll than Ian Astbury in The Cult’s heyday. Not hair metal, not the AC/DC-style stuff of Electric. Just polished rock.

“Fire Woman” was a staple of our local rock station, and I could never get enough.

(Source: https://www.youtube.com/)

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Trains: Blair

Blair

Both sides of Blair’s family has worked on the railroad. He has five family members riding the rails.

“I love seeing my brother drive by on the train,” he says.

Trains: Face Front

Blair’s been collecting train memorabilia since he was young. He has an O-gauge train set at home, and the GTs are his favorites.

He’s grateful for the Central Michigan Model Railroad Club.

“I can’t personally work on the railroad because I’m deaf, so this is the next best thing.”

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Even more so than with my Instagram feed, I’m venturing into abandoned places and trying out some photography with my new-ish Fuji XE-1.

My phone is easy to shoot with because it’s always with me, and I can pull over somewhere and grab a few shots, and then jump back into the car and drive away.

But lately, I’m scoping out some locations, and carrying my Fuji in the car everywhere I go – just in case. And the 27mm Fujinon lens is flexible enough to get the kinds of shots I want.

Above is from an abandoned home near Spring Arbor, Mich. I’ll have a lot more coming soon from this location.

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Two At A Time (at UMMA: University of Michigan Museum of Art)

Trains: Art

Art

Art has been collecting model trains all his life.

His mom and dad got him started as a kid, and he still has the original toy train. “It still runs,” he says.

After his children left the house, he converted their bedrooms into train rooms.

“It keeps me occupied,” Art says.

Trains: Art

After 20 years in the club, with everyone placing trains on each other’s sets, how does he know which train is his?

“We just know.”

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The Morning Room (at University Of Michigan Museum of Art)

Back At It (at UMMA: University of Michigan Museum of Art)

Gibraltar Trade Center

It’s like ‘Toy Story’ — some toys enjoy a life of playtime with children, while others are collectors items, doomed to live out their fading lives in glass cases.

So it was at the Gibraltar Trade Center. Here, the characters of my youth — Ninja Turtles and WWF wrestlers and Spider-Man — existed in purgatory. Premium prices on shitty quality toys placed in precarious positions.

Consider the Marvel super heroes chained by their Pac-Man overlord to duel with their counterpart villains. Every day. Forever.

Or the poor headless Star Wars figurine ensnared in the jaws of an unforgiving and sadistic toy shark. The horror.

Spider-Man tried to make his escape, and we rooted for him.

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