Somewhere hours away from New York, there’s a love motel that changed very little since the ’70s and the since the early 2000’s, was left completely abandoned and untouched. It’s taken over by moss, rust and rot, with each swinging getaway room outfitted with a dust-flecked heart-shaped hot-tub and mirrors, mirrors everywhere. Naturally, photographer Tod Seelie was invited. He sends along some amazing documentation. Step inside. Watch your head. The ceilings fall.
It’s not as completely undisturbed as it was a month ago before the “Illicit Couples Retreat,” before the local scrapers and wanna-be graffiti kids yet had their way with the place, gouging out the heart tubs, pulling out salvage wire and tagging walls. Alas. These things happen.