I couple of years ago D-man and I snuck into the old Morningside campus of the Queensland College of Art, where a not inconsiderable chunk of our youths had been spent by both of us, especially him. The sight has simply been fenced up and left to its own devices, and it was a strange world we wandered into.

The place has an almost post-apocolyptic feel to it, vegetation and stray puddles of rubbish had taken over the whole site, on every level. There’s still a security patrol, so nothing much was smashed up or tagged. It was strangely intact.  The place felt full of ghosts, as if the energy of all the crazy creative  people who passed through that ugly brick maze had been left behind, and is still waiting for them to come home. I snapped these with my dinky phone camera

Usually when you move on to new parts of your life the old places continue to grow and change without you, and going back often makes you feel a little left behind, you have to look for the parts you recognise so you can reconnect. Nostalgia is tempered by balancing your own changes against the changes to the places of your past. But this was different, this felt like without you the place simply stopped cold. A very strange but wonderful experience.
I don’t know what’s happening to the site there, but I hope eventually something great goes in to bring life back to the place, and I don’t mean some hideous housing development of units with double garages to fit 4WD suburban wank machines, or a Nando’s

Oh, and we’re not that hard core. By ‘snuck’  I mean we drove past one day and saw the gates open, so we walked straight in. Sorry to break anyone’s illusions of fence scaling and security guard dodging if you’d had them