Well, since I'm playing mad catch up, I thought I'd post as much as possible, but with skipping a bit between the fourth and fifth photo. In between that was when I went into The Barrens. That train going by plays a part in things. I'm walking due west on Ashland Avenue, looking north. Any other photo of the creek I have taken has been looking south from the el platform. In one photo, you can see the el at the station. The concrete pillars and roadway belong to Interstate 55, which will take you to Peoria and then St. Louis. I really do think that the sharp angles and textures came out great, I didn't crop anything here. Some great views of the bridge overlooking the creek. Look through the bridge at the abandoned factory and the broken window. What's in there? The last photo is taken from the same position as the open window one, I just pivoted west to show the direction my train will eventually come from. The Sears Tower is visible in a few of the photos, and you can even see the ozone. At least, if they come out clear on the blog. Ah, to visit the bottom of Bubbly Creek, as jagged as the angles in the photos, the rotted bones of the century-old carcasses like my own body, right hip bone jammed into my left elbow socket haphazardly, the cracked cartilage of broken bones and holes from screws and plates that never stayed put. (You can see those fellows in the photo by Martel to the right, under Hourman, who gets an hour of power from taking a Miraclo pill, just as I can maybe get sixty minutes in before I break apart into a hunched monster. Its a full moon tonight, and I used to be able to snarl like a werewolf in between keystrokes. I'm something out of a silent movie now, a dead-eyed Conrad Veidt, silent like the things beneath Bubbly Creek, surrounded by water that is hallowed and holy...Wayne
