Walking along an access road adjacent to a set of active railroad lines proved to be quite a daunting task with nearly two feet of snow covering the ground. Each step forward my legs sunk nearly knee deep into the snow ahead, making the proceeding steps that much more strenuous. Eventually I developed a walking pattern consisting of leg moves and stretches reminiscent of something out of Michael Jackson's Thriller music video. I imagine I must have looked at best jarringly foolish to anyone who may have had the humorous pleasure of watching me from any of the overlooking buildings.

With my newly developed dance learned down pat, I was able to move through the snow with awkward agility towards the massive graffiti adorned warehouse, obstructed by only a rusty barb wired topped fence. However with any imposing fence line erected within a city comes an even more impressive breach; so with much ease the immense warehouse became my playground for the afternoon.

Vast open expanses dotted with repetitively spaced pillars and dusted with a layer of peeling paint flakes, effectively summarizes the extent of the building's architectural design. Fortunately, it's rarely the appearance which attracts me to vacant spaces, but rather it is the simple allure of any empty building that I find to be a calling for curiosity. From the flooded basement to the frozen snow covered roofs, there was much fun to be had. The exterior walls were transformed into a canvas by many of New Jersey's most notorious taggers and graffiti artists. The massive skeletal billboard frames up top the roof no longer promoted consumerist propaganda, instead featuring tags left by those with the nerve to climb and leave their mark. Such a sight only to be viewed by the thousands of mindless commuters whom zip by daily in their cars and by rail, blind to the ruins which surround them.