You get used to something living in the Deep South, especially in the swampy lands around New Orleans, and the bayous near the Mississippi Gulf. You get used to the knowledge that the land around you, that nature, is slowly and constantly creeping in on you. Sneakily seeking to devour your home, it's possessions, and maybe even your slow moving pets. Vines. Kudzu. Weeds. Mold.
But what I saw inside my mom's trailer was like a bad sci-fi movie. The whole thing was being devoured, coated on all surfaces by what looked to be many different species of creeping mold. Dark black mold, green mossy mold, light cotton-candy mold, slimy algae mold. Above, my mom's living room ceiling, which was formerly white.
My girl and my little brother both have asthma, so we kept them outside. My mom had fresh wounds from some hurricane debris that had attacked her, so I kept her outside, too. It was just me, my camera, a face mask, a steady stream of sweat in my eyes, and a wild kingdom of mold and mud. Above, the space between the kitchen cabinet and the vent over the stove, which is slowly peeling away. It looks like the mold is all that's holding it together.
Seriously. Any biologists out there? What the fuck is this stuff?