Ecology of Absence / Faith Infiltration: Abandoned Church

I am drawn to architecture, especially historic. I’ve lived in Saint Louis my entire life and the history of this city is both amazing and depressing.

In many parts of Saint Louis, historic buildings are crumbling. It’s clear that buildings survive when human beings care about them, and they fail when they are ignored, when no one cares to preserve them. Gravity, nature, and brick-thieves take their toll. It reminds me that nothing is permanent. These buildings have been around longer than I have. If someone cares for them, they can last centuries. They will not and cannot last forever. Buildings are seen as something more permanent than our mere flesh and bones.

One of the things I do with my camera is document urban decay. In the sadness and anger I feel when I see structures left to destruction, I also see a certain beauty. I know that in a way this is like seeing the beauty in a swarm of maggots enveloping a body that was once alive. I am aware that this is counterintuitive. Perhaps that’s part of my love for it.

In August, Flimsy, Saint Gasoline and I spent a few hours in an abandoned church located in northern Saint Louis. It was like visiting a slice of a post-apocalyptic world. The images I captured are, in my opinion, glorious, stunningly beautiful, and haunting. I love how sunlight cuts through holes in stained glass windows, how green mold creeps up the walls, how roofs rot and let moisture inside. The building is dead and yet unmistakably alive. Paint peels away, revealing brick and plaster underneath. Gray dust settles over everything. I hope you enjoy the images as much as I do.

See the beauty of absence here.