This is a house in Boulder, CO. This was taken in 2014. Super weird. If you’ve ever been to Boulder you know just how much this house would stand out on a street of homes. There’s all these odd sculptures, skulls and the house is surrounded by a wrought-iron gate. It was across the street from a high-end deli and I couldn’t help but snap pictures. By the way, this was not near Halloween. This was in August.
“I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn’t know who I was–I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I’d never seen, hearing the hiss of the steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn’t know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds.
I wasn’t scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost. I was halfway across America, at the dividing line between the East of my youth and the West of my future, and maybe that’s why it happened right there and then, that strange red afternoon.” –Jack Kerouac, On the Road
Instagram: @plvntstrong Location: Flagstaff Mountain, Boulder CO