When did it suddenly become cool to hate everything? It's a growing problem, especially in the entertainment world, and no one benefits from an increasingly hard to please, pessimistic audience.
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The building was constructed as the luxurious Janion Hotel in 1891 and touted as one of the first in the city to have electricity. But its life as a hotel ended just four years later, and it went through various incarnations before being boarded up in 1948. It's owner, Clara Beatrice Kramer of Sky Blue Properties, has refused to sell it and her other heritage property for decades, but applied for a permit to demolish the two buildings. Kramer's father-in-law bought the Morley building and two other downtown properties 51 years ago for small storage space, but it's gone unused since 1978, and unattended to since long before then. The Janion property is assessed at $1,191,300, with the former hotel on the site valued at $11,300. It's also been a target of groups such as the Anti-Poverty Committee who have argued that its 24 units be opened for housing for the homeless. It has been the subject of more than one instance of squatting and resistant occupation, as well as a site for a commemorative memorial. See also, 1891 BW **EDIT** I've made seven hundred dollars off this photo!! Douglas Magazine, a local business mag bought a one time usage licence from me for five hundred dollars, for a full page unadulterated print of this piece. Since then I've also sold several 9x14 prints for thirty dollars each, making me another couple hundred. Dang. CommentsMe too... I'm having so much fun with it. I got sixteen favs on the colour version of this pic. I was -- The moon rises and hides in the soul, A dream is left hanging on the gallows of consciousness, The sunset dying on your lips as you grace the sky With a smile that is really a grimace. Treason is in every bed, Just like death tangles with everyone. I've been told that about a lot of my pieces lately! Like :thumb75627947: Into Dreams and :thumb73568105: The Inside Walls!! -- The moon rises and hides in the soul, A dream is left hanging on the gallows of consciousness, The sunset dying on your lips as you grace the sky With a smile that is really a grimace. Treason is in every bed, Just like death tangles with everyone. |
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