It was a Saturday morning, summer was coming to an end as the sun lazily stretched into the horizon and penetrated the windshield painting our faces and skin and in golden warmth. A two hour drive ahead of us, the destination, a long since abandoned ward turned school in a small forgotten town in PA. A few times a year the owner of the now defunct school lets in artists and muses to explore the wonders inside the concrete and brick walls. The drive was mostly highways and the familiar buzz of the road mixed with conversation kept the trip feeling short, after a while we exited the highway and cruised to a stop at a traffic light, laid before us the town sat waisting away in a valley. Buildings looking as though time stood still lined sidewalks, the people of the town gazed from there porches as we drove through the narrow grid. After moments the school arose on a corner, an impressive structure at four large floors and taking up about half of a standard city block.
A gravel lot in the back welcomed our car, and a friendly man just inside the front door welcomed us and pointed us down a set of stairs so worn from use that permanent indentations had been left from countless years of students hustling class to class, just past the stairs an old classroom sat with chairs, a desk, and refreshments, inside photographer and model alike met and talked shop and plans for the day. After a quick sign in and name tags we proceeded to follow our guide to understand the layout before venturing off on our own. The school was lit with gorgeous natural light flooding in from each dusty window, the auditorium complete with grand piano drenched in blueish green light from a window dressing, while an old gymnasium gave a warm rustic glow with its impressioned glass pains.
We took advantage of the auditorium first, as to beat the rush of other creatives that were sure to food such a mesmerizing location shortly. Kayla adorned a black leotard and contoured her body around and to the grand piano before climbing on stage for some dramatic dancer esq. poses. Once completed we made our way down into the gym, the pattern of the court could be seen in spots fading with age and use, an old leather basketball lay half inflated, the background an old hoop with what was left of a net gripping to it. The day went on like this for hours, exploring each room and creating magic where we wanted. It was late afternoon at this point and the sun was fading as were we, grabbing a few detail shots of rooms and corridors before retreating to the car and heading back home.