This is a piece of fiction told in the first person by Dorothy through the lens of her computer screen. Dorothy has a strong curiosity for exploring abandoned places; in recent years since her husband passed away, and she has discovered that painting the landscapes that surround these abandon sites she visited gives her a deeper connection to her memories of these places. The stories can be read in any order, however, the intention is to read them in the order in which they appear on the blog (I, II then III). You can view each of the individual stories and their related pieces of transmedia, as well as the full collection of all the transmedia pieces, and the link to the theme I used by navigating to the start window on the bottom of the blog.
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Last Seen Blogs
Audio
Source: never-obsolete.tumblr.com
Windows 98 default start sound
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
I. Painting
My last trip was to a few small towns in eastern Ohio where industry once boomed, attracting flocks of families and individuals, but which now lays as a ghost town. The remnants of bustling life, commerce, and community lay scattered across the land.
The earth tries hard to consume the leftover trash; covering the rust with moss and pushing weeds through the cement, but alas these structures remain. I imagine what the land would have looked like if the soil could consume rusting metal, lead-filled paint, and chipping cement. What would the land become?
My computer hums its familiar jingle as I wake it up. Situated in front of the biggest window in my house, when I sit at this desk I’m able to look out to the rolling hills in the distance, which I often do, imagining the way the hills have changed over time. The hills have been there for much longer than I have, and will be here long after, yet, they are not asked before industry builds on top of them.
I make sure to check for system updates every time I turn on my computer. Edmund always said that I should keep everything running up to date. We used to go on these trips together before he passed away, but I know he is by my side every time I visit another abandoned site.
Since Edmund died, I’ve found myself exploring this computer so much more. About a year ago, I stumbled upon a program called Microsoft Paint where you can do just that! It’s a marvellous little software where I can waste the afternoon away and create just about anything I can think up.
Now, when I look back at pictures I've taken at the abandoned sites I've visited, I like to imagine what the scene would look like if the land had never been taken over by a factory or a parking lot. How would the grass sway and the water flow?
There's a particular image I took on this last trip to Ohio that sticks in my mind: a photo I snapped on the third day of a grassy hillside near a lake with two huge, abandoned molasses drums, decaying atop the hill. I open up Microsoft Paint and begin to draw the outlines of hills and a lake below. From images and from memory, I start to recreate the beauty of the landscape, adding in patches of yellow and white wildflowers, and a foggy blue sky that could begin raining at any moment.
As the sun sets behind the hills outside my window, I add the finishing touches to my painting, imagining the land without rusting metal drums or a private property sign atop it.
0 notes
Text
II. Exploring
Stumbling upon that first abandoned lot when I was a teenager sparked a strong curiosity within me, and I was constantly on the search for more spaces that had been left behind. Fortunate for me, this was easy to do where I grew up. Living in a small town on the east coast of the United States, I was surrounded by hidden lots of forgotten treasures.
In my last summer before I graduated high school, I went out looking for abandoned places with my then boyfriend, Edmund. We took a sunny Saturday and drove a few hours out of town to spend it poking around the leftover remains of a small town that used to be centred around a porcelain factory. When the porcelain factory closed up shop, most of the town left with it.
Similar to most abandoned sites we visit, it always looks as if the whole town left in a rush, with factories looking as if they were in busy operation one day and then closed their doors for good the next.
"Dorothy come check this out," said Edmund from behind a wall.
I follow the sound of his voice and find myself staring down at an overwhelming large pile of cracked plates, bowls and cups.
"What kind of factory closes down and leaves a bunch of brand new merchandise behind?" He scoffs, "Makes you think how little any of this stuff was worth. Imagine, I paid for bowls just the other day when I could have come here and got a few for free!"
Edmund was always so focused on getting a good deal on anything, so I knew that seeing perfectly good porcelain dishes left to rot made his blood boil.
"Imagine how many fine goods are sitting in abandoned factories, maybe to never be found. You know I never want to pay for another shirt until there aren't any more new shirts in forgotten warehouses." Edmund professed.
"You're going to go a long time without buying a new shirt then, maybe you should reconsider," I chuckle.
"Gee you're right," Edmund laughed. "I really just wish they could all burn up into dust in the night. I don't want to think about how many forgotten things lie in abandoned places, sometimes it makes me go crazy."
Every abandoned site I've been to I've noted down its location by pinning it on Microsoft MapPoint. This has allowed me to visualize a web of abandoned places from coast to coast. A web of uncleaned messes by industry and decaying family homes. Sometimes I do wonder what would happen if all the leftover scraps could burn up into dust in the night, and in the morning the earth would wake with fertile soil and new growth where cement used to lie. For now, that is only a dream, but I find expressing my dreams through painting does make them feel more true, which for now is good enough for me.
0 notes
Photo
Source: ulan-bator.tumblr.com
DSRTEDGE.BMP
211 notes
·
View notes
Text
III. Remembering
I grew up in a small town in Vermont, in a large farmhouse near a quiet stream, with two grassy hills to shade us from the midday summer sun. The stream’s edge was always a special gathering place for family and friends who came to visit. No matter the occasion, we would always be pulled to congregate near the sound of the flowing water and the smell of the mossy rocks.
My most formative and special childhood memories were spent beside that stream; catching frogs with my brothers, swimming alongside our farm dogs, or sleeping in the soft grass beside the water after a long day. In the summers, I would eventually run out of interesting things to occupy my time and I would ride my bike, on the lookout for something I didn’t recognize, yearning to be surprised.
One particular afternoon like this, I stumbled upon a row of old mailboxes at the edge of a dirt road. Inquisitively, I pressed on through the trees curious to find something worth telling my brothers about. As I climbed through the sea of trees and overgrown grass, I spotted an out of place sloping pile of moss and weeds. As I got closer, I noticed it was the roof of a house, fully caved in, with shrubs and weeds pushing through broken windows and decaying doorways.
It was clear that no one had occupied the space in decades, yet the furniture was situated as if the occupants had just left. Plates on the dining table with mouldy remnants of a meal, children's toys scattered in the living room, and an unfinished book lying on the couch. Why did this family feel a sudden urge to leave without collecting their belongings? That question always stood in my mind, but even after years of coming up with infante possible answers, it still gives me chills to not know the truth.
I've recreated the landscape surrounding the home I grew up in by painting it in Microsoft Paint, however, I painted it without our home, or our garden shed, or the road that ran beside the hills. I tried to imagine what it looked like without our town's added transformations. Yet, with all the landscapes of abandoned lots I've redrawn on this computer, I've never redrawn the forest surrounding that first abandoned house I stumbled across as a teen. I wonder what my childhood home would look like if it was abandoned, a rotting home overtaken with ferns, shrubs, and tall weeds. How long would it take for the earth to reabsorb all the debris we left behind?
I open up Microsoft Paint and begin to think back to those broken mailboxes by the dirt road. When did the mailman know to stop bringing mail there? Another question that occupies my mind, yet it will continue ringing with no answer.
I think about the tall trees and the wildflowers and how much they've changed since I've seen them last, and how much they'll continue to change and grow for generations after I am gone. How long would it take for the land to reabsorb the abandoned home in the woods? I may never know, but before I can set a single pixel on the screen, I need to think about what the land would look like if it already had.
0 notes
Photo
Source: never-obsolete.tumblr.com
Windows 3.1 - Paintbrush
735 notes
·
View notes