Digital Ink'd

  One warm day, J and I set off to explore an old mill he’d discovered some time ago. The place was hidden away and seemed ideal for the kind of photos we loved taking—rustic spaces with that raw, forgotten feel. We entered casually through the front, our cameras ready, aiming to capture as much as we could before moving on to the other buildings. About 20 minutes into our shoot, J’s voice broke the silence. “There’s a white truck out front.” He’d spotted it from the second-floor window. I joined him, snapping a few more pictures along the way, trying to stay calm. We figured maybe it was someone stopping by briefly. But just as I was getting my last shot in, I saw movement at the entrance. A man stepped inside, chatting on the phone. Alarmed, J and I ducked behind a wall, hearts racing. Before we knew it, three more people had joined him—a second man, a woman, and a small dog. We realized, with sinking dread, that it was the property owner, likely giving contractors a tour and get...

  The neighborhood felt like a forgotten patchwork of empty industrial buildings, each one silently decaying next to the other. Years ago, walking past the block near the old Freihofer Wholesale and Retail Bakery Complex , I noticed that the gate I'd once found shuttered was now slightly open—just enough to slip under and explore. I couldn’t resist. Inside, the first thing I saw stopped me in my tracks: graffiti by artists who had transformed this abandoned space into their gallery. The centerpiece was surreal and monstrous—a sprawling, gray figure with jagged yellow teeth, too many yellow eyes to count, two exposed red brains, and a long, blood-red tongue. It was a disturbing mix of body parts, like something conjured from a fever dream. This wasn’t a piece that could’ve been drawn sober; it had an intensity that felt born from wild imagination and maybe a little psychedelic inspiration. After taking in the scene, I moved farther inside. The rooms were filled with the usual debris...

Minck Brothers & Company began in Brooklyn with modest beginnings, incorporated with just $25,000 in capital split into $100 shares. Their business focused on soda, soda water equipment, and various other carbonated waters. Despite the straightforward mission, Minck quickly grew into a prominent name in Brooklyn’s beverage industry, especially in Bushwick, a neighborhood known for its breweries. They succeeded with consumer favorites like mineral waters, which were especially popular during Prohibition. But they also bottled porters, ales, and lagers, and even crafted a specialty celery and nerve tonic. Minck Brothers had ties with Consumers Park Brewery as well, selling their beer to meet local demand. A Minck Brothers newspaper ad.  But not all the company’s headlines were about drinks. Minck Brothers faced a few memorable lawsuits that grabbed public attention. In one such case, Mrs. Cathi Lang, a winemaker originally from Alsace, France, sued the company for $1,000. Mrs. L...

Founded in 1906, Herrmann-Aukam & Co. emerged as a key player in the world of handkerchief manufacturing, setting up its base in New York with factories in places like Lebanon, PA, Belfast, Ireland, and South River, NJ. Their property in South River was a sizable, industrious hub: a sprawling 128,000 square feet across five interconnected brick buildings, with two and a half acres of open land. There was even a railroad shed served by the Raritan River Railroad, linking it to the Central Railroad of New Jersey and creating a critical route for distribution. Originally, Herrmann-Aukam had acquired their first mill in 1882, and soon after, they began producing handkerchiefs in full force. Their products ranged from plain and hemstitched white handkerchiefs to the distinctive blue and red bandannas that became favorites among workers and mechanics. The company invested heavily in state-of-the-art upgrades, including a new power plant and Swiss embroidery machines. These machines allow...

Within the imposing walls of the Bayside Fuel Depot , also known as the Bushwick Inlet Refinery, eclectic art pieces and vibrant graffiti adorned every available surface, creating a sensory overload that was both chaotic and mesmerizing. The cavernous oil tanks and sprawling rooms of the main building played host to a lethal dose of creativity, transforming the depot into an unlikely graffiti wonderland. I arrived intending to document the refinery’s industrial history but found myself captivated by the dizzying array of colorful art pieces that had claimed the depot as their canvas. Every inch of the immense white walls inside and out was covered in a smorgasbord of rainbow colors, shapes, lettering, and characters. Playful figures from Disney classics stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the abstract, the surreal, and the subversive, forming a visual tapestry that mirrored the diversity of the city itself. In my opinion, the Bayside Fuel Depot was on par with the legendary 5 Pointz graff...