Regarding news in Carrollton: I just read the other day that the Chinese shipping hub plans sounds like a bust… for now and the immediate future. Given the sad state of the economy coupled with the heavy pandering from Chicago for a shipping hub there, I am in the belief that Carrollton will remain in its dormant, idle state for some years to come. Lambert’s few participating airlines once again significantly cut back a number of flights to our little town. The new runway has reached a point of extreme uselessness, wasting decades of planning, hundreds of homes and countless tons of concrete. This was already a given, though it saddens me every time I hear the news of even more flights being cut. It adds to the already great losses the expansion project has cost the area.
Regarding my work in Carrollton and this blog: For those who followed this blog, I apologize for my lengthy absence and cannot promise a regular posting schedule in the immediate future. For one thing, my physical work in the area is already done… I photographed what I could when it existed. Now that everything is idle, only the turning of the season’s colors draws me in (which is quite beautiful this year). I will hopefully in the near future post some recent fall pictures, which portray a lovely juxtaposition of landscaped beauty with an eery silence. Again, I don’t have much else to report.
I am only recently coming to grips with why a reasonable 29 year old would begin photographing her former neighborhood’s destruction in the first place. This is a subject that goes beyond simple art school inherent interest and coffeehouse-cool typography. Watching a childhood home in its destruction is not something most artists could make a thesis out of, and if they could it still would be too difficult to publicly handle.
I wouldn’t trade in the work I did for anything. I truly enjoyed photographing the houses and the time I spent wandering through Carrollton in flux between the awe of its destruction and old familiarity of the space. Even if it was not safe to do so, I was still drawn to being alone there.
Many months later, time to move on. Time to let Carrollton’s dust settle. Time to let my photos become a little stale before I revisit them with fresh eyes.
J. Desy Schoenewies
56 Houses Left 