I live in a neighborhood undergoing a lot of transformation.  Not really gentrification.  We moved in, 11 years ago, at the end of that phase.  Others blazed the trail and we were happy to find our way into a warm, quiet, safe community with a quaint little gazebo park and streets completely canopied by ancient trees.  Now, it seems that a lot of the multi-family buildings and rental buildings are meeting their demise.  Some sadly, some not so sadly.  Some of the new construction is amazing.  Some, leaves me shaking my head.  Still, what remains is my fascination with the demolition process.  I don't know what it is that fascinates me about this, but I'm drawn in.  Watching the whole procedure.  It might be that something that took months, or more, to build can be gone in the matter of a day or two.  Perhaps it is, even though a destructive process, it is carefully planned and executed.  Mostly, though, I think it is because it seems as if the coming and goings of all the residents of all the years past are suddenly exposed to the elements, ripped open, and shown to the world.  And, I find that fascinating.

I think, sometimes (or a lot of the time,) I see and feel things others don't.  I frequently get odd looks or the "uh huh" expression from my family and friends.  This could explain the "weird" label that was has been attached to me throughout my life.  And perhaps, this is one of those moments that would get me that label.  I saw this, today, on a walk through the neighborhood.  Not sure if anyone else will find this "beautiful," but I did.  At some point, someone had a lot of fun putting all those handprints there.  And, as I peered through the remnants of the walls yet to fall, it made me smile and brought me some joy.  In my book, that is beautiful.

handprints
 

Taken with a Samsung Galaxy S5.  Edited in Photoshop along with Totally Rad! RadLab