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nihilsinelabor.bsky.social
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Prolific Poster

Goodnight from Mr. and Mrs. Hatch, wondering just where the Wyndham Motel has vanished to after fruitless hours driving up and down the A3650. Goodnight from Gemma Lovekin, witch-stitching with dock leaf dyed thread to make a curse repellant shirt. Goodnight from Hookland.

Convoy, no more...; dozens and dozens of forgotten and cast-aside truck hoods left behind inside an abandoned, rusting and decaying manufacturing plant. #abandoned #urbex #EastCoastKin #PhotographersofBlueSky #photography #RustBelt

The ravaged time-capsule offices of a long-abandoned and absolutely vast manufacturing plant somewhere deep in the Rust Belt. The main stairway of this building, leading down into the dark lobby below, was perhaps my most favorite find of this trip out. #abandoned #decay #EastCoastKin #photography

Roll out the barrel; an abandoned and historic brewery in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. This was one of those hours-long tours due to so many passageways, maze-like chambers and seemingly endless nooks-and-crannies. #urbex #abandoned #photography #EastCoastKin #PhotographersofBlueSky #Pittsburgh

Goodnight from Nixley Lane, where the resident Hedge Sprite is planning harsh revenge for an out of season trimming that disturbed its nesting birds. Goodnight from Perry Bowden, hoping that the rain will rinse away the whispering shadows that cling to his skin. Goodnight from Hookland.

The broken castles of England haunt with an unpleasant sense of control. Stone that hold an echoing message of know your place, do as you are told. They offer sorrow phantoms, the psychic cicatrix of repression., Lords of the land scared of their own people. – #CJosiffe #Castles

Deep decay inside the behemoth that is this abandoned manufacturing plant, somewhere in the Rust Belt. All around this huge complex were stacked truck hoods, many of them of old makes and models. Mysteries abounded here. #abandoned #urbex #EastCoastKin #RustBelt #Industrial #Photography

Goodnight from Lee Dipley and Amanda Fell, their snogging behind Bladon’s church hall cut short by glimpse of blazing red eyes observing them. Goodnight from Jeff Tate, not entirely convinced the antlered beast he just hit with his Morris Traveller was a deer. Goodnight from Hookland.

Goodnight from Si Brunt, walking Whisper Wood and worrying for the first time about why tonight's lunar light is called a 'Stalking Moon'. Goodnight from Tom Mutch, full of tired, repetitive thoughts about the mystery of what melted the barbed wire fence up at Tarbox Field. Goodnight from Hookland.

Cemented in place; the moldering ruins of a former cement plant near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Even though the weather was dubious that day, the wet slog to this site was worth the wet boots... #Abandoned #Urbex #EastCoastKin #photography #PhotographersofBlueSky #industrial #Pittsburgh

I think I took a wrong turn down a narrow alley and ended up at The Chapel of Flayed Abbots in Hookland. #Hookland.

In Hookland’s dusk where shadows grow, Children sing with voices low: “Marrow, marrow, bone and ash, Hide when moonlight starts to flash. Dig the grave with fingers bare, Whisper secrets none should share. #Marrow calls from under stone— Leave your name, or be alone.” #vss365 #Folklore #Hookland

Cover art for The Latchless Door. A Hookland-adjacent project with @taliskimberley.bsky.social

Alleged home tree of the Wood Sprite known as Bone Daggers. Favoured payments for his terror tithe include dolls' clothing, Matchbox cars, wine gums and bird wings. Local children say once Garry Collins didn't pay his tax to Bone Daggers and next day he ran out on the road and got hit by a Cortina.

'Queen of Owls following the Hum' 🌘 - I saw my first St. John's Wort in bloom today 🌿 #OwlishMonday @hookland.bsky.social

Cygnet feathers float the water. For all the sunlight and calm of the pool, you can't but wonder if their shedding was natural or the result of hungry Stay Belows. Later, you'll walk this way again and find humerus and carpal bones from swans. You'll never feel quite as safe by the edge.

An abandoned factory tucked away and hidden in a Rust Belt city, where truck hoods and parts could be found throughout the complex. This place had clearly been left to slowly decay decades ago... #abandoned #urbex #EastCoastKin #photography #industrial #decay #RustBelt

The pylons marched the land and so did we. Each pylon passed giving its voice to The Hum we heard. Each transmission tower a temporary temple. The electric ley of the land charting itself in our heads with every walked mile. – Signal-catcher Rose, ex-Child of The Hum #VOH

Liminal space KUU73

Goodnight from Millie and Ellie Lund, enjoying a boneyard picnic of candied elderflower as well as cheese and hawthorn jelly sandwiches. Goodnight from The Ageless Child pub, where Billy Larkin has just earned a cursing for abusing the good name of Lydia Redwin. Goodnight from Hookland.

For it is St. Sarah’s day, a time of horse fair and pilgrimage to half-hidden roadside shrines. Even those who turn away from the folk faith of others know the phrase: ‘To laugh is to pray on St. Sarah’s day.’ - #CLNolan #Folklore

Somehow the ghost soil always seems more active on St. Sara's day. Almost as if the displaced dead know there are ears who will listen to them. You can feel it as a prickling of your psychic skin. A sense of the land's long memory of those unnamed folk push to the margins. – Joanna Vickers #VOH

Inside a long abandoned and since-demolished concrete plant in the rural Ohio countryside, just short of the Pennsylvania border. Perhaps one of the most structurally unsound places I've attempted to shoot, once you got up into the guts of the place. #urbex #abandoned #EastCoastKin #BlueSkyArtShow

Liminal space 5(VX0

Goodnight from Terry Nye, delirium gripped as he plots the path of lost rivers, Blue Flamer sightings and Edwardian murders in his Ashcourt A-Z. Goodnight from Jacob Doe, too wary of ill-spirits and seeing omens of woe to go out poaching on St. Sarah’s Eve. Goodnight from Hookland.

WITNESS HIM

Anyone who regularly walks the cloisters of Weychester Cathedral at twilight will tell you that they've had more than one moment when they couldn't be sure if the figure ahead of them was person or phantom. There's always apparition hesitancy. Uncanny uncertainty. – Natalie Kid #VOH

inking strange clouds & planets

Goodnight from the phantom of Davey Jackson, whistling the walkways of the Tate House tower block and taking a dim view of anyone trying to take a piss in the stairwells. Goodnight from Lydia Bowden, wishing the construction of a God Cage was easier. Goodnight from Hookland.

The Great Stone Viaduct of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. Built in 1871, it was constructed to carry rail traffic over the Ohio River from Bellaire, Ohio to Benwood, West Virginia. It was built to be reminiscent of ancient Roman aqueducts. #Architecture #urbex #EastCoastKin #Scape #photography

There are signs when a church starts to turn feral. Its walls wear green, its windows become bold in showing ghosts in the glass. Inside, dust forms into words never written in any Biblical language. Congregations of the dead say mildewed prayers. Lead thieves remember a childhood fear of curses.

Goodnight from Josie Perkin, taking in the washing before night dew soaks it or Faery thieves claim it as their own. Goodnight from Thorley Junction, where trains pull towards a welted dawn as they disturb the Saxon war dead with their constant clicking of the tracks. Goodnight from Hookland.

The dim and damp main corridor of a former water treatment plant in Flint, Michigan. #abandoned #urbex #EastCoastKin #PhotographersofBlueSky #Flint #Michigan

The abandoned corporate headquarters of a large manufacturer of tires in Ohio; the company built newer digs and left the old, historic and massive industrial palace behind. Since then, scrappers have descended and ripped a good deal of metal out of the place. #abandoned #urbex #EastCoastKin #Ohio

"At last!" He held up a simple gold ring. "I have searched for this for years!" "What is it?" "A shapeshifting ring. I'll put it on... Imagine myself as... Ah! Wonderful!" "I see no difference?" "I have no joint pain!" "Wow! Can it do other changes?" "Anything you can imagine. Want to try?"

Some say the nets of St. Agatha at Belford Darrow are to deter pigeons. Some say it's to deter suicides or witches. They represent no restrain to the stone Feorhunds of its towers. These grim guardians climb and fly about them with more grace than expected from winged-dogs.

Today is a day where one can't seem to do anything right for anyone. "You're not doing this right." "You're not posting here correctly." "You aren't doing enough of a, b or c." Everyone is a critic. Remember that we all have lives outside of social media and that we are all trying to do our best.

A spaceship landed in the park. A door dilated and an alien emerged. It skittered to a notice board and carefully studied one of the posters. It returned to the spaceship and soon came out carrying a cat and a mobile phone. "Hi, we have found your cat Pebbles...Yes... Our secret base on Ganymede."

Goodnight from Danny Lambert, admitting to himself that bringing an air pistol to a confrontation with the Children-made-of-Thorns was monumentally misguided. Goodnight from Herod’s Tump, its cursed treasure singing into the dreams of Charmaine Heywood. Goodnight from Hookland.

Muted winter sunlight mellowly illuminates the crumbling ruins of the administration building of an abandoned Kirkbride hospital in New York. #abandoned #urbex #Kirkbride #EastCoastKin #PhotographersofBlueSky #photography

The wrecked ruins of a once modern and now abandoned high school in Flint, Michigan; another product of the economic destruction that occurred here with the downfall of the automobile industry. #abandoned #urbex #EastCoastKin #photography #PhotographersofBlueSky #Flint #Michigan

The alleged home tree of the Wood Sprite known as Bone Tearer. His favoured appeasements are stolen rum, buttons, Milk Bottle sweets and cigarette cards – though not any series featuring British kings and queens.

From Sharon Olds's book, The Wellspring: bookshop.org/a/862/978067... #poem #books #writing

The rusting behemoth of the abandoned Bellaire-Benwood Toll-Bridge over the Ohio River, connecting the cities of Bellaire, Ohio and Benwood, West Virginia. Opened in the 1920's and closed in 1991, this bridge is still an engineering beauty. #abandoned #urbex #bridges #EastCoastKin #photography

Gauges in cages, rust at rest and a massive overhead crane inside an abandoned mill in Ohio Valley-adjacent West Virginia. A surprise find while in a quest for something else altogether... #abandoned #urbex #industrial #EastCoastKin #WestVirginia #PhotographersofBlueSky #photography

Three trains and a fire truck; abandoned railroad cars and engines, as well as a long defunct fire truck found tucked away in the small Ohio River town of Benwood, West Virginia. #abandoned #urbex #vehicles #photography #EastCoastKin #PhotographersofBlueSky #WestVirginia #transportation

Hooklanders call them 'practical signs' - directions for what's actually in a place rather than a name. They are cute until you get lost and actually need a direction to walk in. Cute until you come across one that reads: 'Woodwose', 'Harrowhound' or 'Marsh Ape'. – #MattAdams

When I was a little kid and imagined the distant future, I always pictured people being nicer. They wore similar outfits and got along.

one thing I respect about medieval beekeepers is their total commitment to looking like Doctor Who villains