Sometimes you need to be able to travel around the city alone. And, above all, due to the fact that when you’re alone, you can understand some complicated things much faster than when you’re with company. To practice meditation. It was with me in 2013 when I arrived in Pittsburgh.
The city emerged from behind the mountains, somewhere down the long highway, its skyscrapers, its some kind of power and at the same time something terribly emotional. Maybe it’s just I saw. Maybe it really is. I don’t know…
Heidi Kaden Lopyreva
Know, walking on the narrow, often cobbled streets of this relatively new world in the history of the city, I’m absolutely clear, in some strange way, he felt its history. Unbearably aching rubbed sneakers feet, the time before dark was quite a bit, but I drove myself on the streets. Need to see as much as possible. Need to get to the black tower US Steel, because it is like Church. Peter in Riga, pointing the way. Be sure to reach the hands of the two rivers, of which comes third. To see these hundreds of steel bridges that are built over some unimaginable period of time. Walk along the fair. To hear the applause of the audience of a game at the stadium across the river. To see the remains of the old French Fort.
Joshua Peacock
And all the while pray to God that the memory card in the camera ran out and all my pictures got there. Because in this life, often the only thing that remains is the memory and the photos of distant places that were so close to each other. Another in my place would not have understood, not seen, not appreciated… And for me, this city, absolutely a stranger, through which I several times passed, flew by, not noticing and not seeing, suddenly opened, as if asking to see him. If ear I whispered: «I forgot everything, I no longer needed as it once was. Rust eats my iron pillars. My pits on the roads, nobody cares. I have grown old, and old people young is often thrown into the garbage as junk shoes, out of fashion».
Willie Fineberg
And like there is nothing special in these urban neighborhoods, often very shabby. There’s no chic in a private building workers ‘ quarters on the banks of rivers. Anyone interested in old warehouses with heavy black iron doors and darkened by smog and the time brick walls? Canteens and small shops of their choice are not even close to the incredible corruption of the proposals in new Jersey along the coast.
But, apparently, still not the point. Sense, rather in history. The meaning in the narrow almost medieval streets. The point is not only to see the old outer shell, but rather believe in the future. Believe in some kind of cult, some kind of city spirits, which you have to Wake up, to call again, to shout to them that they are not forgotten and that I was standing on their bridge in their town, in their heart, know of their existence. And thankful to get it. Grateful that I heard and found. Left on the memory in the heart and in the photos.
Vidar Nordli-Mathisen
One only did not converge in all of this. Yes, I drove myself there, but would like to me she was. Because only I could show and tell her. Because only I know what it’s like to awaken in her. Because anyone in her life she was not and likely never will be as interesting as me.
Vidar Nordli-Mathisen
And ultimately, when it became quite dark, lights came on, and I stood and stood on the waterfront, at the Cape, in the oldest part of the city, in the head endlessly climbed the words of the song:
«I scream «ow» spring,
I call you in my sleep.
What are you going to answer me
Alone?..»
The answer came when I came to this wonderful place, in this city, but with Golden in 2017.
And come back again…
