Vortex sings a lullaby

We often think of love as something we feel, but what if love is also something we build?

Organization is simply love made visible.

A clean kitchen can be love.

A protected savings account can be love.

A daily investment can be love.

A documented estate plan can be love.

A well-designed school can be love.

An efficient hospital can be love.

A standard operating procedure can be love.

Every thoughtful system asks the same question:

Who will be cared for when I’m not standing here?

That’s stewardship.

I don’t believe love is passive.

I believe love builds.

Love protects families before a crisis arrives.

Love invests before abundance is needed.

Love documents wisdom before it’s forgotten.

Love creates systems before they’re required.

Love develops leaders before they’re called upon.

Love thinks beyond today.

We’re not just managing resources.

We’re practicing love.

Because love becomes culture when it’s repeated.

The Terror succeeds in laying humanity bare before us, showing the full gamut of human emotion and experience through the lens of just one event in history.

Humanity, we see, is inherent, multifaceted, infinitely changeable, and very, very complex.

Every man is capable of violence, deceit, bigotry, and cruelty. But every man is capable of love, courage, sacrifice, and even heroism too.

Every man is a cathedral.

But The Terror also lays before us body upon fallible, fragile body in every state of injury and debility. Lacerated posteriors, charred faces, exposed brain-matter.

Dark lines in gums, and leg bones in cooking pots.

Every man is a pudding also.

With death and destruction as inherent as life and humanity, we're freer to ponder the question of where the line is between those two states and when that line is crossed.

This is the control room, and if you look closely, you'll see a dark stripe in the carpet running the perimeter of the room. This was referred to as the "velvet rope," and absolutely NO ONE was allowed to cross it without authorization. It was under constant observation from an adjacent office, and I was told that if someone did set foot inside without permission, things got VERY serious VERY quickly.

This is one of the computer stations, and to me, it's such a gorgeous encapsulation of its period of technology, the sort of aesthetic that shows like Lost will bend over backwards to recreate.

As I was scouting, I noticed the day calendar had last been torn off about when the plant closed for good...

Then we went into the nuclear reactor, and the whole damn thing was just so spooky.

Looking back, I think it came from an overwhelming feeling of utter insignificance in the face of the sheer power this colossus was designed to produce.

The scale was just so out of proportion to every day reality, the sort of place where a weight of "46000 LBS" is just casually noted on the side of a part.

Peering into where the core would've been, all I could think is that I'd never want the job where you have to climb down that ladder on the left while this thing was in operation.

If you're interested in seeing more, you can find my full tour here!

https://nickcarr.com/scouting-a-decommissioned-nuclear-power-plant/

if I make these links clickable they'll get deleted so please copy and paste them:

Livestream: https://www.twitch.tv/enderempress

terror?

I saw someone positing in the reblogs about what kind of house this is!

this falls into the general craftsman umbrella, but it is specifically a foursquare, more recently called a "seattle box" or "classic square".

it's my all time favorite type of house. it has four main rooms on each floor and a staircase in the middle. they are so gorgeous inside and each one has its own quirks and custom rooms. a few that i've been in have a little tiny powder room in the middle of the main staircase.