At the center of each frame of the essay lies the imagery of pathways. Each scene is a station in the journey or a narrow crevasse along a corridor of decay; a respite before the next decision. Steps are many in number and winding in nature along the path of life. I wanted to demonstrate the tendency of paths in Seattle. The paths here turn downward and betray their pasts. They become frightening, shocking and grey. I came here with a mind for answers and I left with answers. But I left with more questions: good questions. Questions about why things decay. Questions about options and how our choices define us. I realized along the way that absolutes are an illusion, and the tendency to define time and choice as rigid structures in space are one of the million man-made failings we’re cursed to reconcile against. I came here with a desire to learn a new path. I’m forced to deal with a decay of something, an image of someone close to me and a city of potential that has become a steel orchard. But any failing is an opportunity, and every path runs two ways. A city that fails itself can change, and people that fail can always evolve for the better. It’s a human prerogative to solve human problems.
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