Schoolroom
On a visit to 'Vulture Mine' near Wickenburg Arizona, Janet (my wife) and I explored beyond the abandoned gold mine, outbuildings, and sleeping rattle snakes, and so discovered The Old School House. It was straight out of a Stephen King novel. Looking at the faded writing on the blackboard it was still possible to hear the rasping echoes of the chalk that made it. I walked through the main class-room and pushed my through a door that was reluctant to let me pass. I knew why. No sooner had I arrived than I felt it was time to leave. Unusually for me, I only took the one picture. Whether it is the strange mixture of objects in the room that spooked me, I cannot be sure, but I still feel a great unease when I look at the shot. The word, haunted, is very appropriate. 
Schoolroom
By way of a complete contrast, I was sorting out the loft of a dear departed friend when I found this image (below) of his Headmaster father and staff. Every face is perfect for the period. I felt that I knew every personality, whose class I would love to be in, and whose would have me dreading every minute at my desk, longing for the bell I can almost hear. Again, haunted. 
This short film, entitled, Schoolroom, is my attempt at combining the two images visually whilst holding on to the atmosphere that I first felt on entering the room in Wickenburg.
Schoolroom