What Isn't There

This is a wall at the Lorton Workhouse where, as you may recall, both my wife and I hang our respective art forms. What may be significant about this is the faded writing that you might just be able to make out. Maybe the bars on the window so that an alternative entrance or exit was made that much more difficult ( funny because it was in a prison)? Or perhaps that it wasn't sandblasted into memory? A prison barbershop. With painted on poles for those that needed a visual re-affirmation that this is where to get one's hair volume reduced. Where all the good dirt on what was happening was readily available for those that cared. Where lifetime bonds where made, perhaps. Where someone could feel a bit better about their lot in life after visiting.

It is rather basic. Easy to understand. No muss or fuss. No clutter. Painted-on poles and sign. Few things in life are so simple.

Wouldn't it be nice if everything was as such ?

Unfortunately, it isn't. But that is OK too. I can take photos and enjoy them for what they are and for what the subject was and for what may be. I can be as complex or as simple as I can possibly be, though I mostly prefer the simple approach.

Anger, frustration, lack of understanding, contempt, annoyance, change for the sake of change. None of these things are there unless we put them there. A Barber's Pole is a Barber's Pole. A wall is a wall. Paint is paint.

People are what they are.