River Apocalypse

c. David Grim (taken 3/24/09)

It's crazy how quickly I come to miss my daily walks. Obviously it's too cold now to make them a structured part of my life. Besides putting on extra pounds that I'll inevitably have to work hard to shed, I find my mental stability threatened through lack of movement. It may not even be a conscious process of intentional reflection, but somehow things seem to find their proper order after a 45-minute walk.

This shot was taken last year, around the time when it first became possible to enjoy walking around the city once again. I had started to make loops around Lawrenceville, and was on the look-out for a different path with new stuff to look at. This interest brought me to the path that skirts the southern bank of the Allegheny. As I made my way through the thick darkness of the trail, I heard human voices along the bank and went to investigate.

What I discovered was a rocky outcropping upon which a few local teens had built a fire. They were trying to immolate a door, and I paused in consideration of the poisonous fumes that must be emanating from this detached portal. I turned down their offer for a beer, but they still graciously allowed me to capture them with my camera. I love the otherworldly suggestion of post-apocalyptic Pittsburgh that came as the result.

Mulling it Over.

c. David Grim (taken 7/4/09)

Here's a shot I took of my friend Kurt last Summer. We were at a 4th of July party over in Larryville, having a good time. I had picked up a big pack of those crappy fireworks we are relegated to if we don't want to break the law here in Pennsylvania. People were playing horseshoes in the dark in the fenced-in yard, and I would periodically light some multi-staged thing that was thrilling enough for the state that most folks were in.

I was really happy to be in the company that I was in. i liked everyone present a lot, and there was plenty of conversation around the fire. We talked about comics, art, and politics. We ate great food in bursts throughout the night. It could have gone on for days, and I would have remained content.

It was the perfect space for me to roam around in with my camera. No one had any problem with being photographed- in fact, the mood was so high that they welcomed it. The funny thing is that the images tell a completely different story, to the point that I could completely question my entire memory of the night. What DID happen last July 4th?

Swan Fire.

c. David Grim (taken 8/29/09)

Probably if you look close enough at the framing of this shot, you'll be able to tell what type of event I was attending. But obviously it's not really about that at all.

To me the image suggests the Great Manichean Struggle, and the resulting fates one can encounter in the afterlife. Not that I put a lot of stock in the traditional conception of good/evil, but I do recognize this dichotomy as THE underlying theme in virtually every story told by mankind.

The funny thing is that I don't believe that this particular scheme was consciously formed by the event designers. The lights depicted were alternating intermittently between many colors.

That's what makes the end product so much fun. Sometimes I feel like my own authorship is in question, and I'm merely channeling from somewhere else. Rather than getting caught up in the process of analyzing my own intention, I'd rather just enjoy these fortuitous messages whenever they arrive.

New Vrindaban

c. David Grim (taken 8/27/09)

If you had never been to the place pictured above, you might think that it was probably in Asia. That would be a reasonable assumption, unless you knew that I've never traveled abroad. But if you knew me well you might be able to guess that I shot this at New Vrindaban, in the mountains of the northern panhandle of West Virginia.

This is Prabhupadha's Palace of Gold. It was built to honor the Indian holy man who made it his mission to spread Krishna consciousness throughout the West. It's not very well known that A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada first settled in Butler, PA (of all places). Shortly after arriving there he found the funds to start a temple in the Lower East Side in New York City. The ashram in West Virginia was founded by his first American disciple- Keith Ham, better known as Kirtanananda Swami, along with his former lover Howard Wheeler (Hayagriva).

Ham experienced amazing success in growing his "intentional community", and at his peak he had well over 500 followers living with him. Unfortunately he went rogue in the 80's, and drew the attention and the ire of the local authorities. He wound up being incarcerated, and then expelled from his own domain.

Today the Krishnas have gotten past the controversy of their early beginnings. New Vrindaban is a fascinating and beautiful place to visit, and is only about a 90-minute ride from Pittsburgh. Hindi pilgrims from all over the world travel to see it. If you need a refreshing escape into the wild, I heartily recommend you make the drive, and tour the property.

Self-Portrait in Moundsville.

c. David Grim (taken 8/27/09)

This self-portrait was taken outside of West Virginia Penitentiary in Moundsville, WV. I was across the street visiting the museum that accompanies the great mound (Grave Creek) built thousands of years ago by the true "early Americans".

I had been to the prison before. In fact it was the very first penal institution that I photographed. I took the tour, but I was so wrapped up in the visuals and the ambiance that I didn't even listen closely to what I could tell were fascinating tales told by the guide (who had been a guard when the place was still in operation).

Since my initial visit, I've learned a fair amount about the West Virginia penitentiary. Much of what I've gathered about its recent history came to me by way of a series of documentaries directed by the excellent filmmaker Jacob Young. As part of his Different Drummer Series (which he did for the West Virginian affiliate of PBS), the director interviewed and featured Donald Bordenkircher, who had been brought in to get the prison under control after a bad riot in the late 70's. It's definitely a must-see for anyone in spitting distance.

Dinner with Uri Geller

c. David Grim (taken 8/19/08)

This image is a result of a trip I made to Lily Dale in Western New York. It's one of the few large spiritualist communities left in the United States. I was on my way to Buffalo, and found mention of the place on the internet.

The idea that you can manipulate the material world by channeling energy is common to quite a few religions throughout the world. Discoveries in the field of physics in the Twentieth Century seemed to reinforce the belief that unseen forces have their effects on everything around us. Psychics who worked through the spiritualist movement tried to develop methodical procedures to harness these energies.

However, it strikes me as somehow trivial that these spiritualists would use tableware as a demonstration of their mastery over things. It would have been a lot more impressive if they were able to make their summer bungalows appear simultaneously with their own wishes. Instead they ended up having to eat with their fingers because they ruined all of their cutlery.

Friday Night Follies.

c. David Grim (taken 12/31/08)

It's not often that I dream about being somewhere other than Pittsburgh. Despite what you might hear about this city, it's got a lot in its favor. It's cleaner than anyone who's never visited could possibly expect. It's cheap to live here. You can buy decent property on a middle-class income. And its cultural offerings are more abundant than any comparable urban center.

Still, on a Friday night shortly before midnight, it's easy to wish there was a vibrant cafe scene. Despite its many assets, it remains a hard-drinking town. Ask a friend to join you at a coffee shop instead of a bar, and you're likely to get a perplexed look in return.

I've heard that there are more liquor licenses here per city block than anywhere else in the nation. That's probably apocryphal, but I can understand why others perpetuate the idea. Something in the blood of a population of a post-industrial rust belt town screams out for the obliteration of alcohol. So the typical choice is hitting the saloon or staying on the couch for another marathon of bad television. Maybe my circle of friends is too wild. Anybody know anyone who isn't in AA that feels the same way?