CONTEMPORARY EXPLORER

Loneliness is at an all time high. The APA (American Psychiatric Association) reported over 30% of adults feel lonely. Malls are one place people go to escape loneliness, but often don’t find it there. You can be with hundreds of others in a modern mall and still feel alone, they lack opportunity for social interaction. Even leaving with an arm full of new purchases can still leave your soul empty for the experience.  Diane Ionescu in her article “The Mall is Dead - Long Live the Mall” points out this is far from the original thinking of how malls should be when they first appeared in the 1950’s. The original designer of malls, Victor Gruen envisioned the mall as a recreation of a European village with a roof. A place to shop, find services and socialize. As malls prospered and grew, space became too valuable to allow room for socializing. When these over commercialized malls suffered big box store failures, they became dying or dead malls. There was noting left to draw people. Now the

  My camera is always drawn by small towns, the buildings and people left behind. Places like Plugs Tires. I don’t know what fully attracts me to them. I can hear them speak to me though. Having grown up in a small town and then moving on. Wondering always what it might be like if I stayed behind. These places are more than just commas and spaces in the paragraphs of life, they partly define you no matter where your travels take you. Maybe it’s because I have always been a loner that old now empty buildings make me pause. Even with camera finding a beauty in these places, I am careful not to find myself left behind….

  Maybe it was the many years that moved along, but Frank had learned the art to stopping. Taking a few moments to observe the passing of life. A sense of vulnerability causing him to be more introspective of what he saw. Frank found the Simon Mall a great place for people watching. Sculptures of circles hung from high ceilings adding high style and class. The chairs in the center areas comfortable. He enjoyed them more in these later years. Kiosks lined the walkways spicing up the offering of brand stores.  One day, Frank sat in his usual chair. Mall walkers passing by in each direction, except for one where a kiosk blocked full view. On the other side he spotted an Indian looking man, slight of build, dressed in earthy colors, neatly worn, shirt buttoned.  He looked the part of a dedicated office or backroom store worker. You imagine things, about people. Frank thought, he did not look like someone who went to the bar with others after work or played in the company golf tournament. H

  Finding art is the suburbs is hard. Burb bashing is a popular sport. They push nature aside, leaving sprawl in their wake. They all start out unique, but end up the same. People complain that the only culture found in these places are malls, gas stations, and chain restaurants. It's a car centric life that can lead to loneliness and isolation, Gone are community spirit replaced by conformity and monotony.  Still It is this sameness that can lead to deeper dives into self and awareness for the unique. The rare different site or pattern that stands out or the imagined thought leading to artful finds. Finding art in the burbs is hard, but you can find it,  and more importantly yourself…

  "Life is full of different things that we are constantly trying to connect to make sense of it all...."  Arturo Herrera ART 21 Magazine

A small deserted building on Tryon doesn’t seem like much, until you stop for a moment. Tryon Street runs through the heart of Charlotte. Once known as the “Indian Trading Path” linking the Catawba Indian Nation to the Iroquois 800 miles to the north. Later it became a key artery of commerce known as the “Great Wagon Road.” It was named after Col. William Tryon, the Royal Governor of North Carolina in the 1700’s. Little has changed regarding the importance of the road to Charlotte, except how quickly you come upon the city core from the south. Giant buildings rapidly stepping ever south with legs of steel and glass, crushing the old along the way, or simply leaping over areas still fighting for their existence like the belt of low income housing. It is rare to find a building left behind in all this, but once in a while you come upon one such as 342 South Tryon. A small garage long closed. The owners name faded away. Still the building causes you to pause, it wears the beauty marks