We have entered an age not of utopia but of its opposite, dystopia. Sometimes I think we have no past. All too often, we trash it like an empty Budweiser on the side of the road. Old buildings are typically torn down instead of being restored and railroads are left to forlornly deteriorate.
Crumbling brick, broken glass and rust have become my companions during my wanderings, sustenance for my soul and fodder for my creativity. In my city, I am an explorer, no different than Balboa or Columbus, but what I explore are ruins that pass unnoticed into oblivion.
Come walk with me and marvel at the decay. Gaze upon the ruins not with disgust but with awe and wonder, for they are no different than those of Giza or Macchu Picchu.
Come walk with me in my city...Utica--the city so nice, they named it once.
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