While a penchant for neatness, order and logic most likely explains my affinity for corrugated iron, the unkind would probably attribute it to the inflexibility and pedanticism of a full-blown control freak!
Whatever it is, corrugated iron’s neat rows and precise undulations with their resultant patterns of light and shade hold an artistic appeal that actually increases as the decay inevitable in Australia’s harsh climate starts breaking it down.
To me, anyway.
Tiny and nearly deserted railway siding Eurelia, in South Australia’s mid-north just south of Carrieton is symptomatic of the decline and fall of the rural railway network once linking remote outposts and delivering mail and supplies across the country.
The decay of the unused structures at the station now rusting, falling apart and succumbing to dry rot echoes the decay of a rail system once the life-blood of rural Australia.
But the other side of decay is its unexpected beauty.
The fading paintwork on the corrugated iron of the Eurelia goods shed ruin, overlaid with the graffiti inevitable to a large, deserted and empty building is a stunning patchwork of colour, light and shade. And the crumbling cut-off 44 gallon drum is a prop I couldn’t have bettered in a million years …
Eurelia’s inadvertent art installation owes much to the fine properties of corrugated iron in decay. And while it’s unlikely the rail network will be resurrected in my lifetime – if ever – the clean-lined rusting beauty of its decay overlaid with fading colours and random signatures will just get better as the years roll on.
But maybe that’s just my inner control-freak talking!