Volume Three | Issue TWO | SUMMER 2011

Cover Model: Jessica Morrison Photographs by: Jen and Dan Buczynski ________________________

Editor-in-Chief: Dan Buczynski [email protected] ________________________

Editor at Large: Todd Hryckowian [email protected] ________________________

Contributing Editor: Sohail Khwaja ________________________

Copy Editor: Rick Szymanski STRONGBOX MAGAZINE is a quarterly web publication born out of a love for all things creative. Each issue is available for download in PDF format, and is 100% free. Our goal is to have fun with art and photography, and share what we find interesting. If you’d like to participate, just shoot us an email. We’d love to hear from you.

 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | summer, 2011 | 

6

40

Letters from the Editors

Apocolypse Metropolis

8

54

Pushed Aside

Delivering the Message

22

59

Dodging Butterflies

STRONGBOX Interview: Simba

36

62

The Unlikely Groupie

Open Yards

Photos by Arash Khodabandeh

Travelogue by Dan Buczynski

Admission and Photos by Wendy Davis

 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

Photos and Article by Michael Bowman

Photos by Pierre-Etinne

By Todd Hryckowian

By Laura Ainsley

strongbox magazine | summer, 2011 | 

This summer’s shaping up to be pretty sweet. As you’ll see in the following pages, I already have one motorcycle trip under my belt, and baseball’s back in Pittsburgh. That’s right: the Pirates are over .500 in June, ladies and gents, and after 18 long years of idon’tgiveadamn, I’m happy to say I’ve got a serious case of the Bucco Fever. I had been so angry at the organization for so long (for reasons that could take up an article in this ‘zine, but that’s behind us now) that I forgot how much fun the sport can be.

The picture you see here was shot by Jen Dobberstein while I was running my second marathon. I’m thinking I was somewhere around mile 22 here. They say a marathon is really two races: a 20 mile race, and a 6 mile right after. What this means, is if you train hard, put the time and effort into it, you can manage the first 20 miles. It tests you in ways you hadn’t considered, but you can fall back on all the miles you logged earlier to get you through.

Like so many other Pittsburghers, the last thing I vividly remember about Pirates baseball is Francisco Cabrera’s heartbreaking RBIs back in ‘92. At long last, it seems like that memory might one day fade. And while I’m not banking on them making the playoffs this year, I’m hopeful that it will be a winning season and the spot in the team’s timeline where you’ll point and say “that’s when they turned that Pirate Ship around.”

Those last 6 miles will kill you.

In a year when the Penguins made for the golf course early, and the NFL season is in doubt, they could not have picked a better time .

Just to bring it back, we’re deep into year three of Strongbox right now. In the beginning, I shot every day. I had infinite ideas. Things were fun, and things were easy. At this point, I feel like I’m somewhere in those last 6 miles. I’m not shooting as often, therefore I’m creating things even less. Rather than whine about this, it’s better to look forward to the finish line, which is never really the end. It’s just the point where you can finally catch your breath, look around, and plan your next race. And I’m thankful that Strongbox has forced me forward, dragging me to finish lines.

LET’S GO BUCS! -Dan PS: I’m saying it publicly: if they finish the season with a winning record, I’m getting a Pirates tattoo.

At this point, you’re running on less than empty. You’ve burned more calories in those first 20 than most people take in all day, and there isn’t much left for those last 6. Body parts hurt that you didn’t think could feel pain. Once, my legs fell asleep while I was running. Seriously, I had no idea that that was even possible.

-Todd  | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 

Pushed Aside In front of the tourists’ hotels, in the crowded market, under the metro bridge or on its access stairs, life in the Philippines is seething. Look closer and here’s a second life within the first: that of the sidewalk. While locals and tourists hurry about their business, many Manilans’ lives move at a much slower pace. The sidewalk is home. While poverty in the villages may only serve to demonstrate degrees of wealth, in larger cities it is cause for discrimination - a measuring tool to exclude the “weakest.” Far from an attempt to illustrate the complexity of the Philippines’ life and culture, I simply invite you to discover through these images that touched me during my stay.

Photographs by

Arash Khodabandeh

 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 

10 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 11

12 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 13

14 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 15

16 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 17

18 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 19

20 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 21

22 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 23

Pittsburgh winters can be cruel. For years, planning a spring motorcycle trip with my brother-in-law, John, has helped me through many a snowy afternoon when I’d otherwise be curled up in the fetal position, crying. This past winter, however, we barely spoke of it. Shortly after we tucked our bikes away for the year, I emailed him a few possibilities, including the Highland Scenic Highway in West Virginia. He sent back a link to a motel that was close to that road and had a bar attached. That was the extent of our planning sessions. Fast-forward a few months, and the snow is starting to melt. Neither one of us had looked into trip options any further, so I booked a room at the motel he’d found and that was that. John and I have been friends practically our whole lives, so having fun is never a problem no matter where we end up. We decided to “play it by ear.”

huge-ass telescope...I mean, there’s enough stuff in that one county to keep you busy for fifty weekend trips. And the roads; my God, the roads...

With about two weeks to go before the trip, though, I finally pulled it together and visited the Pocahontas County, WV website. I figured that since the HSH was only 43 miles long, if there was something else to be seen in the area, it’d be helpful to know about it. Man...I had no idea. There are several state parks, a national forest, a historical railroad, trails, waterfalls, a frikking

24 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 25

Getting there is half the fun As we headed out on Friday morning, we were blessed with sunny weather. It was a bit nippy for the first weekend in June, but nothing a hoodie wouldn’t make you forget about. The business part of the ride – outbound from Pittsburgh on route 51 South to Uniontown – was so familiar to us it passed without notice. Route 43 was characteristically empty, which allowed us to properly wake up the engines. A little further on 837 and we said goodbye to the Commonwealth and hello to Wild and Wonderful. A detour here, some construction there... nothing to write home about. With very few 26 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

inconveniences, we found ourselves getting deeper and deeper into the state on nicely paved two-lane highways. We followed route 92 for quite some time, and it got progressively more scenic the longer we rode.

Monongahela National Forest. It was about here that we both noticed a huge uptick in the number of butterflies, mostly because they were large and sounded like rocks when they smacked hy helmet.

By the time we joined route 250 in Bellington, we were all smiles. There are no timetables when we’re on two wheels; the ride there is just as much a part of the trip as the destination. It’s a philosophy that is appreciated on days like this, when the weather is good and the roads are friendly. Who wants to be fighting about rest stops or how much further there is to go?

Hello, Marlington

The last stretch of road – 219 from Dailey to Marlington – had us skirting the edges of the

I don’t expect a whole lot from a motel room. I want it cheap, I want it clean, and I want it to have some character. I’d rather sleep in a familyrun motel with these basic requirements than hole-up in a superchain with no soul any day of the year. The Marlington Motor Inn surprised me in that it was much cleaner and much more spacious than I had dared to hope for. In fact, it’s one of the cleanest motels I’ve ever stayed in. There was a nice, big pool out back as well, although we didn’t plan on taking advantage of it. We did, however, plan on making full use of the restaurant and bar they have on-site.

If there is a downside, it was that there was no cell reception to be had on either AT&T or Verizon. This is pretty common in my experience with West Virginia, though, and so not wholly unexpected. We’d left the motel number with our wives, so if we needed to be reached, we were reachable, and so I chalk this up as a non-issue.

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 27

Since it was only late afternoon when we’d checked in, John and I decided that we’d ride a portion of the Highland Scenic Highway that was close to the motel. After a short cat-nap to recharge my batteries, we got back to the business of riding. Closed Course

of coffee, and not having to ride to get some is worth its weight in gold. We scarfed down some breakfast and got right on the road. It was just under a hundred miles from our motel to the bridge, and along the way we had nothing but awesome riding. The whole area is one big roller coaster for motorcycles. Last year, we rode to Shenandoah National Park to ride Skyline Drive because we’d heard so much talk about how scenic and wonderful it is. Don’t get me wrong: it is beautiful and it was a nice ride, but it was nothing compared to route 33 that got us there. Sweeping curves on the West Virginia side thrust you ever higher until you crest to meet the State of Virginia. The roads on that side of the mountain just want to throw you over the side. They hate you, and you can’t help but love them for it. It was the best part of last years’ trip, and a road I’ll definitely revisit someday.

When we discovered this was prime motorcycling territory, I resigned myself to be part of a crowded sea of two-wheeled tourists. Much to my surprise, we had this beautiful chunk of West Virginia pretty much to ourselves. We only encountered a few motorists all evening, and I don’t recall seeing another bike along the highway. I figured this was the calm before the storm, though. Saturday would bring hordes of bikers, and so I made it a point to go easy on the throttle and take in the unbelievable beauty I was surrounded by. Curve-for-curve, Pocahontas County proved to be the best riding I’ve ever experienced, and we’d only just But Pocahontas County had countless roads begun. that were as good if not better. Any given corner could offer you banks that would be at After about 60 miles of postcard-worthy home on a racetrack, complete with views that scenery, we headed back to the motel for take your breath away. I’m not an aggressive dinner. We met up with our neighbors - two motorcylist by any stretch of the imagination, gentlemen from our neck of the woods who but that doesn’t mean I can’t feel like a million were also touring the area on bikes. We talked bucks when I hit an apex just so and roll on that about our motorcycles for a bit and sat down throttle so I get tossed out of a curve perfectly. to a meal together. We mentioned that we I did that all the way to Route 19, which planned on heading west the next morning to unfortunately is just a superslab as it makes its check out the New River Gorge Bridge, and I way to the New River Gorge. On the bright mentioned that I’d never been beneath it. They side, it got us to the bridge at a steady 70mph, assured us it was worth the ride if only to head even if our aching backs needed to stretch at down into the gorge, and told us where to find the bridge’s welcome center by the time we got the road that we wanted. A few beers later, we there. retired to our room and slept off all the fresh air we’d allowed into our city lungs. That’s a Big Damned Bridge

Û

Û

I’d crossed the New River Gorge Bridge once before in a car, and it impressed me so much that I had to see it again. You can read all about If we didn’t appreciate the bar and restaurant the bridge later, but just suffice it to say it’s 876 that was attached to our motel the night before, feet above the river that runs below. I certainly appreciated it in the morning. I can’t functinon very well until I’ve had several cups 28 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

The New River Gorge Bridge towers over white water rafters. Once a year, on “Bridge Day”, crazyass BASE jumpers are permitted to take the leap from the deck. Riding down the gorge, over the river, and back up was my favorite part of this trip, although it was a little unnerving at one point. strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 29

After a quick visit to the visitors’ center and observation deck, we followed our motel neighbors’ instructions to locate the old road that would take us down the hill. We’d been warned by several people that it was narrow, and that there were a few very tight turns, but we weren’t concerned.

The Old Fayette Road began its decent in fairly tame fashion. It’s one-way, and so the width was not a problem at all. Looking up from directly beneath the bridge – and especially looking across the valley through its supports – made my knees wobble. A couple hundred yards down, the first “escape” road appeared to the left. We continued right, down the hill, where the road started to narrow, slithering downward as it gripped the sides of the mountain. I found myself wishing like crazy that I would have brought the GoPro camera, but I’d left it at the motel room. As we were about 3/4 of the way down, I was rounding a particularly tight turn that banked sharply down when I noticed a rut in the right side of the road, and so took it wider than I’d initially planned. In doing so, I was putting my tire perilously close to the edge, and so I made the mistake of looking straight down.

30 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

Don’t do that. I was shaking the rest of the way down, hugging the mountain all the while. We crossed another bridge at the bottom (you can see it in the above left photo) and stopped for a while to watch white water rafters from the bridge walkway. The ride back up the other side was almost as much fun as the way down, with the decided advantage of looking up. Once we’d made it back to 19, we rode across the bridge and headed back the way we came, admiring the view from this amazing structure. I can’t for the life of me imagine leaping off of this thing, but that’s exactly what happens every year on Bridge Day. I guess so many people were BASE jumping from the bridge that they made it legal for them to do so annually in hopes it’d dissuade it the rest of the year. Batshit crazy, I say, but to each their own.

We more-or-less retraced our route back to the motel, stopping only long enough to throw down a Whopper. Along the way we noticed a restaurant in Marlington’s business district that overlooked a stream, and decided that’s where we’d have our dinner. Unfortunately, the food and service wasn’t as good as its location, which left us wishing we would have stuck to the motel’s restaurant. Over dinner, we decided that it was too nice outside to have our drinks in the bar that evening, so we stopped and bought our booze on the way back. After a quick rest at the motel, we headed out for one more quick ride around Marlington before parking the bikes for the evening. Likewise, we parked our asses on the chairs that lined the motel outside our door and had a toast to life on two wheels. strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 31

Although the motel neighbors we had dinner with the night before had apparently moved on, the neighbors to our left were sitting outside, and we spent all evening talking with them. Both retirees, they told us about many of their travels both on and off their Gold Wing Trike, and we talked well into the night. All the time in the sun had taken its toll on me, though, and I was working on a pretty good headache. I’m sure drinking several beers didn’t help, so after gulping down as much water as I could, I popped a few pain relievers and tried to get a good nights’ sleep so the long ride home the next day wouldn’t be marred by a headache. The obvious side-effect of the water-gulping, however, was that I was awake every few minutes to tinkle. About one o’clock in the morning, it was raining pretty hard, and I 32 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

looked out the window to see some nice lightning, but my head was thumping worse than before, so I quickly went back to sleep. About an hour later, though, John woke me and said “you have to see this.” We walked out our door and immediately a lightshow made my jaw drop. Giant tendrils of cloud-to-cloud lightning were stretching the length of the sky every few seconds. Each time, the mountains were backlit and looming large in the distance. It was one of the best lightning storms I’ve ever seen. After several minutes of staring in awe, I realized there was no way I could just go back to sleep now, so I grabbed a glass of water and my camera. Luckily, I’d packed my GorillaPod, and so I wrapped it around a pole and aimed my camera at the sky. Since I was using the small Canon G9 on this trip, I only had the

option of 15-second exposures, so I routinely missed the flashes of lightning as the photo was writing to the card. Nonetheless, I managed to catch a few, and waking up in the middle of the night allowed me to down a bunch more water before turning in again.

were crowded and the red lights numerous. If it were feasible for me to throw the wife and dogs on the bike and turn back around, I would have loved to have done it. But getting back to real life where you have to earn the paycheck that funds these kind of adventures is a necessary evil,

Sunday morning greeted me with a headache, but one that was more manageable than the night before. I figured another round of water and Ibuprofen would do the trick, and so we packed the bikes and headed out of town. We both agreed that we’d be heading back next year, and probably the year after and the year after that. There are so many good roads that I think you could visit a hundred times and still find new ones. I was singing John Denver pretty loudly inside my helmet for the first couple miles, and by the time we got back to Pennsylvania, the roads strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 33

34 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 35

I never thought that I would become a “groupie” at my age, but that is apparently what happened (as my friends and family are quick to remind me.) I’ve followed them all over Pennsylvania and Ohio to more than a dozen shows.

HOUSE OF BLUES, CLEVELAND | MAY 30, 2011

It’s not completely out-of-character for me to obsess about things I’m passionate about. My husband and I like camping so much that we bought a trailer and take it on as many trips as we can afford (as well as a few we can’t) every year. I have read more books on the Appalachian Trail as there are miles on the path itself, and have even sponsored hikers who take the journey while I dream about the day I feel ready to hike it myself. But this...this is different. I wouldn’t have thought I’d ever want to be in smoky bars packed with strangers time after time to watch a band play, and I certainly wouldn’t drive hundreds of miles to do so. Still, when I’m driving home to Pittsburgh at 3 am after a show in Ohio – telling myself the whole way that I’m getting too old for this – my head has no sooner hit my pillow than I’m thinking of the next time. Why? It’s more than the music itself. I mean, the music is great, but it’s the passion with which they perform that is so addictive. They sincerely love what they do, and it shows. Scott Terry (the lead vocalist) is the most animated, unique performer I have ever seen. He sings with such emotion that you can’t help but feel what he is feeling.

Red Wanting Blue has been around for over 14 years. They have 8 CDs under their belt, and one more in the oven. They have been called “the hardest working rock band in America” because they travel all over the country playing in just about any venue they can fit themselves into. They did all this as an unsigned band until July 2010, when they signed with Fanatic Records. I knew none of this in January 2010 when they took the stage in Bowling Green, Ohio, as one of the opening acts for Gavin Degraw. I was there to see the headliner, and I watched with casual interest as they started to play. That changed in a hurry. They didn’t sound like an opening act, and their stage presence was magnetic. They play with an intensity that’s contagious, and by the time they had finished their last song and walked offstage, I wanted more. 36 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

As if this isn’t enough, they are all really good people. After every show, they are more than happy to stick around and chat with their fans. They are doing what they love and happy to be able to share it. They’re not doing this to feed some egotistical need. They’re doing it, I think, because they have to. You can’t keep this kind of emotion bottled up. Why they have been mostly overlooked for so long is anyone’s guess. It is certainly not for lack of motivation. They travel mile after mile, night after night, doing what they do all on their own. For years, they’d had to work “regular” jobs just to make sure there’s gas in the van. It has to be exhausting. I really hope that this new record deal will be the push they need to break through. In the age of American Idol, it’s all about packaging and marketability, but if honest-to-goodness talent isn’t marketable, then I think something’s broken. strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 37

PANINI’s, CANTON, OHIO | MAY 29, 2011

Who knows...someday soon, they may be all over the radio and television. When I last took an interest in an up-and-coming band, it was a little group called Maroon Five. The first time we saw them, they were also playing in a small club and had to load their own gear. So for now, I’ll enjoy seeing RWB play smaller clubs and hope they have the same success. Maybe I’m a good luck charm. If nothing else, I have made new friends, visited new places and got to see some great local bands I wouldn’t have otherwise been exposed to. When they’re playing arenas, I can sit back and tell all the naysayers “I told you so.”

38 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 39

Detroit was once the the fourth most populous city in the United States of America with nearly 1.8 million residents. It was also the symbol of American industry, mainly because of the concentration of automobile manufacturers in the area. Since approximately 1950 the city has been on an ebb and flow of economic ups and downs, racked by increased competition in the automobile and truck markets from abroad, an increase in commuter sprawl and racial tensions which caused a flight to the suburbs. As of 2011, the population of Detroit is down to an abysmal 717,000 residents, making it one of a handful of U.S. cities that have decreased in population since World War II.

Michael Bowman

40 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 41

It’s a Job Firefighters from Ladder 8 – known as the “Junction Boys” – approach an arson fire that consumed three homes (two vacant, one occupied) along West Grand Boulevard in the southwest section of Detroit. Being a firefighter myself, the thing that struck me most about the Detroit professionals was their gear. To say it’s broken-in would be a vast understatement. Each and every one of them looked as if they were wearing a charcoal suit, and many looked as if this wasn’t their first job of the day. They willingly and without hesitation put their lives on the line, searching all three structures for possible victims as the flames spread from one home to another. Eventually, the order was given to pull back and the tiller ladder went to work dousing the scene.

42 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 43

Abandoned police precinct, Detroit metro area. 44 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 45

An abandoned court room podium. Metro Detroit, Michigan. 46 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 47

those were the days “...didn’t need no welfare state, everybody pulled their weight...” Perhaps “All in the Family” was onto something.

48 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

irony One of the many abandoned churches in the Detroit Metro area.

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 49

lessons never learned Books strewn across the floor of an abandoned classroom.

50 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

A stencil high on the wall of an abandoned fire house.

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 51

Notes and rusted food cans scattered across the floor of an abandoned apartment. 52 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 53

pictures by PIERRE-ETIENNE

54 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 55

56 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 57

STRONGBOX INTERVIEW

PHOTOS BY NATHAN WARD

Editor-at-Large Todd Hryckowian sits down with “Simba”

For more pictures by PIERRE-ETIENNE, visit his flickr page: www.flickr.com/photos/lepublicnme 58 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

STRONGBOX: I’ve seen your stickers, and SB: Why do this? The Pittsburgh Graffiti Task you’ve talked about painting, what else do you Force is gunning for graffiti artists, and the risks do? just seem to be huge. What is it about putting up a tag, sticker, or whatever that makes it SIMBA: I like finding spots to paint that worth that risk? are chill enough to explore and paint at in the middle of the day. I usually write in places that SIMBA: I’m not sure if I could ever find a I enjoyed exploring or found to be a cool spot, good answer for this. It’s a really hard thing to no matter how cutty. Those are my favorite explain to someone, like why do you eat? It’s like types of places to write, even when I know very that. I just enjoy letting someone know I was few people are going to see them. there and that I probably had a pretty good time there. Or maybe I just walked past it and thought SB: How did you start? it would look good with a tag or a sticker on it. It’s just communication while sharing a style SIMBA: I’ve always been decent at drawing at the same time. In two seconds someone can and typography has been a big interest of mine for glance at a tag and say, “oh look, he was here” a long time, even when I was younger. My family and maybe it will make him happy or angry for was always traveling between DC, Baltimore, a second and then he’ll go about his business. and Pittsburgh, so I saw a lot of graffiti in those I just like that quick communication between cities growing up. There was also a train yard in people, and the reaction it can have. I think the my hometown. I guess like anyone else, I just world has lost a lot of that lately. came up with a dumb name and started writing it on things. I didn’t really know anything about SB: I have no idea if you read comics at all, but the “scene” here or anywhere when I started; one of my favorites is called DMZ. It’s about I just did my own thing until I was fortunate a second Civil War that takes place in the not enough to meet people. too distant future, and turns New York into a strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 59

demilitarized zone, caught between the forces SIMBA: A lot of my favorite writers are of the secessionist “Free States” and the USA. those I grew up seeing around the Mid-Atlantic, especially the NSF’s; Soviet, Hert, and Curve stick One of the characters is a tagger called Decade out in my mind. My favorite thing about them Later. In a recent issue, the main character, is their ability to piece so well, while still being Matty Roth, describes him like this: able to do a lot of street bombing too. KYT is also a big influence; Puzle and Vent26 are two There’s no beauty in the city anymore. of my favorites. KIDS**, Jesse, and Vomit, a lot of We make our own beauty despite the DAC. city, carving out moments of happiness where we can. Cynicism and irony have From a completely different scene are San been replaced with genuine and heartfelt Francisco writers like Twist, Amaze, Nemel, Pez, expressions that are at times so at odds and the rest of DFW. I’ll always be a big fan of with the world around us, but never the JYK’s—Cue, MFOne, and Vick will always be feel forced or cheap. Street artists like awesome. Decade Later have moved beyond the stereotype of taggers and vandals, but As far as music goes right now, I’m really into not just into the realm of fine art or stuff like the Beach Boys and Frankie Valli, with conceptual imagery. He and others like songs about things I can relate to at this age I him act as custodians of the soul of New guess. Ariel Pink is an all-time favorite too. I York City, embodiments of hope against have a really eclectic taste, but stuff about girls the forces arrayed against us. Their and growing up will probably always be up my work should not just be preserved, but alley. celebrated. I like this because this description lives outside of the comic book. Do you have any thoughts on this? Agree? Disagree? SIMBA: I wrote to Hert in prison a while ago, and he said something that really stuck with me. He said that there was great beauty in a handstyle, and that a walk around the city wasn’t just a walk, but an experience. I almost have trouble understanding that not everyone sees what a writer sees. Every tiny thing written on a surface means something, whether it’s good or bad, messy or clean, thoughtful or stupid, or just a name. There is so much more detail on the street than most people see, and I’m really grateful that I’m able to see that. SB: Who are some of your favorite graffiti artists? Music? What’s on your iPod when you put a sticker together?

SB: When we were driving through the South Side, you went on a mini rant when you saw that someone had tagged a house.



** See “KIDS: A Rememberance” - Summer, 2010 issue - Dan

See “HERT LOCKER”, last issue - Dan

60 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

You were pretty pissed about them doing that, which is pretty much in line with every graffiti hater I’ve met. What are “the rules” for graffiti as you see them? SIMBA: I guess that sort of thing gets to me because that’s what people envision when they think of graffiti. That’s why people get so worked up over it: the whole lack of respect for other people’s property. Obviously, it shouldn’t go on houses. People look at some scribble that a random toy put on a house or a local business and they think that writers destroy houses and businesses and things that good writers wouldn’t bother hitting. I think most writers I know stick to things that few people care for in the first place. I feel like a big goal of graffiti is to bring life to something that no one cares for or bothers looking at anymore, not maliciously destroying property.

it without having to deal with the guy. Then out of nowhere a freight train came zooming past. My buddy suggested that we run along with it so the guy would never see us, and that’s what we did. It was probably the most fun close call ever, and a really cool getaway. Probably sounds a lot less exciting in text, but it was a lot of fun and a pretty funny story to tell.

SB: Here’s the big question. Why do it? Why write graffiti? The risks are huge: prison time, SB: Give me a good story.Tell me about a time fines, probation. In light of this, what keeps you you went out and did something memorable, going out and writing? whether it was writing, or whatever. SIMBA: There are so many things I never SIMBA: One time a friend and I decided would have gotten to experience if I didn’t write. we’d go out to a fairly chill spot down by some I have been to so many cool spots, buildings, tracks to do some fill-ins in the daytime. We and areas. I have met so many cool people. I’ve were about halfway through our fills when this met a lot of real scumbags too, but I really don’t guy on a bike came riding up on the other side mind that. You get to meet so many different of the wall we were painting on. He stopped people, whether they’re writers or enthusiasts his bike and was clearly looking for us; he was or hobos or railfans or property owners or sniffing like he smelled paint and kept putting cops or photographers. Some may like you a his hand to his ear like he was on the hunt. He lot and some are going to hate you, and that’s looked like he didn’t approve and he wanted just part of doing it. And if I didn’t write, I don’t to say something. It’s not like we thought we know what kind of worse trouble I’d be getting were going to be in trouble or arrested, but myself into. It’s a great outlet when I’m bummed we thought for sure we would have to at least or even when I’m happy. I could go on and list all have an awkward moment talking our way out the reasons but they would take up every page of this. So anyway, we just sat on the other side of this magazine. of the wall and made no noise for a minute and thought about what we could do to get out of strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 61

open yards

laura ainsley

Larimer Pittsburgh, PA

62 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 63

There’s mystery in open yards—the mysteries of childhood and adolescence, of hazy August nights that stay half light so long you feel like the summer is conspiring with you to break any rule that’s ever bound you. As we grow older, our yards come to symbolize those often hazy borders in our lives—the hedges between our homes and the world beyond them, the weeds and edging between our interior and public lives.

Connellsville, PA

Road after road, house after house, yards become an integral part of the landscape we see every day. Though often ignored as such, this landscape is extremely telling of who we are. As a photographer, I’ve become fascinated with this element of landscape in its various forms. Whether manicured or wild, decorated or unadorned, surrounded by chain link fences, bordered by creeks, or open to the road, these simultaneously personal and public landscapes scream out to be seen, captured, and documented. The process of photographing yards is just as telling. The act of standing near (or occasionally 64 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

in) a person’s yard with camera in hand tends to crystallize the very ambiguities that make this kind of landscape so interesting. The interplay between what is public and what is private, what is displayed and what is hidden, what is visible yet nevertheless inaccessible, makes these spaces, to me, endlessly captivating. The yards of abandoned homes hold secrets of their own, too. Many become open fields in the city, as nature reclaims them and battles with still-blooming honeysuckle planted years ago. This scent still fills the air as I wade through the grasses and vines, bottles and tires, as the wildness of nature—and the wildness in us— reclaims lost territory.

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 65

Homewood Pittsburgh, PA

66 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 67

Wilkinsburg, PA

68 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 69

Hill District Pittsburgh, PA

70 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

Leisenring, PA

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 71

Now young faces grow sad and old and hearts of fire grow cold We swore blood brothers against the wind I’m ready to grow young again And hear your sister’s voice calling us home across the open yards Well maybe we could cut someplace of our own With these drums and these guitars. – Bruce Springsteen, No Surrender

Larimer Pittsburgh, PA

Larimer Pittsburgh, PA

72 | www.strongboxmagazine.com

strongbox magazine | SUMMER, 2011 | 73

Later.