Maybe we feel a reverence for waste, for the redemptive qualities of the things we use and discard. Look how they come back to us, alight with a kind of brave aging. ~Don DeLillo, Underworld
Something is missing. As we evolve to adapt to our swelling urban environments, living in the shadow of terror, when the power of money seems infinite and social interaction is relegated to the emoticon slums of the digital age, what's missing becomes clear. The loss of tactile objects, books, our limited human interaction and compassion, as well as our increasing disconnection from nature are redefining our existence. This sign is a flawed, flaking totem for the twilight of a dying empire. Alternately, as new life timidly kisses this monuments wounds, perhaps this broken light is a proclamation of hope. Perhaps we should see these vacancies as tender openings aching to be filled.