I've always been fascinated by abandoned places. When I started being more serious about photography (when I was 19 and developped my own prints in the college photo lab), I would drive in the countryside around my hometown and stop to explore old barns or burnt structures.
I wrote about the story of the Salton Sea a few months ago when we first visited. I wanted to go again, see more, feel more. When I walk into an abandoned building, I feel pulled in and pushed away at the same time.
When we stopped at Bombay Beach, the wind was howling and the sun was setting. I walked through the glass shards carefully in my sandals, noticing a dead fish that had found its way in a corner, an old blanket, a few rusty cans and, a small pink pillow (maybe a child lived here?).
As we drove back, I tried to imagine who lived there before. What the house might have looked like when it was inhabited. When it provided shelter to a family.
If only walls could talk.