These factories hold their histories together with dust and concrete. Paint peels from the walls and ceilings, there is evidence of vandalism, artifacts are left to crumble. But rooms and objects in them are brushed to a soft patina by the spirits of the people who worked and gossiped and played here. Light filters through dusted, broken glass and breaches through walls and ceilings. Water finds its way to vast galleries to sit still as glass. Even as we pass through it we try not to cause a ripple; we hold a great reverence for the place and what it once meant to its people.