Monday, April 30, 2012

PGH Book #4: Brothers and Keepers

The fourth book in the 2012 Pittsburgh Canon was suggested by and graciously lent to me by one of my oldest friends, Kate. As soon as I mentioned my resolution to read these books about or relating to Pittsburgh, she immediately said "Brothers and Keepers."

Confession: When I was at Pitt, one of my writing professors "encouraged" us to go to a reading/discussion/lecture featuring John Edgar Wideman. Because I was a dumb, unappreciative college student, I went - begrudgingly. I might have even fallen asleep at one point. I admit to this because after reading Brothers and Keepers, I am so mad at my stupid younger self for not paying attention during that ninety minutes of my life when I could have had the pleasure of listening to this man tell me stories, teach me lessons, and make me appreciate words in a way I haven't in a while.

I could never adequately explain how much I loved this book, so I thought the best way to honor this beautiful memoir from John Edgar Wideman was to hand the reigns to Kate and let her explain why it is one of her favorite books:

Brothers And Keepers is among my favorite books.  Amazon tells me that I have purchased it nine times, and I purchased it for myself in 2003, which means that those other nine were given away as gifts. I bought a bunch of copies from two of the Half-Price Books stores near Pittsburgh. So what makes it that good?

First, it’s non-fiction, my preferred brand of reading, and it’s a memoir, which I also prefer. There’s something so satisfying about hearing how life is experienced differently across people—I’d say that a good 2/3s of by personal library is autobiography or biography.  Second, it’s a story of a Pittsburgh family, and I do love Pittsburgh. So much so that I gave up being a baller in Baltimore to be a pauper in Pittsburgh, because there’s something in this city that Baltimore doesn’t have. There are third and fourth reasons, but I’ll get to those in a bit.

I studied non-fiction writing at Pitt, and majors are required to do a non-fiction readings course. I told my adviser that I wanted to skip the book-length non-fiction class and wait until the short essay non-fiction class came around in a subsequent semester. This was true, but for a very bad reason: I had heard that the professor in the book class was hard on students, and I hadn’t yet found the merit in failing at something worthwhile instead of succeeding in something worthless. In the end, I ended up in the book class, with Jeanne Marie Laskas, who was not so hard a grader and once wore mismatched shoes to class. I didn’t think twice when I saw the book on the list. John Edgar Wideman grew up in Pittsburgh, Jeanne Marie told us. So what, I thought. I never heard of him.

And then  I read the book. There’s so much depth to it, so many surprises. I’ll let the surprises be his, but will tell you this much: Wideman grew up in Homewood, with his brother Bobby. Black boys in a black neighborhood. John grew up, went to Penn, was a Rhodes Scholar, teaches at Brown, wins prestigious writing awards. Bobby is serving a life sentence for homicide. Here is the central theme of the book: How did two brothers, in the same city, neighborhood, family—identical contexts—end up so differently? That’s my third reason. The examination between differences among siblings, something I feel so deeply because of how different I am from my sisters, has kept me reading and rereading this book. Make no mention of the fact that John himself has three children, one of whom plays in the WNBA and another of whom is serving a life sentence for homicide. Siblings, same city, neighborhood and family—identical contexts—finding themselves on remarkably different paths. Wideman, who spent years trying to answer this question about himself and Bobby, now tries to answer it as a father. Bobby’s son has been killed. He took a life, and one was taken from him.

Much of the story takes place inside Western State Penitentiary, Pittsburgh’s prison. The river trails runs past it, and while out on a run one afternoon, passed the building. The first thing I noticed was its mansard roof. I thought what a beautiful old building it was, and when I looked past the old ruins, I saw a modern concrete building and razored wire. I have lived in Pittsburgh for twenty-four of my thirty years, and I do believe that was the first time I ever saw the prison.

I do, however, spend a lot of time in the Allegheny County Jail. Therein lays my fourth reason for adoring Brothers and Keepers.  I loved the book before I started teaching in the jail, but after that year, when I had more or less fully developed the sense that most inmates were not actually bad people, just had decision-makers, I fell for it even more. I’ve taught murderers.  I’ve taught rapists. I even taught the man who fatally shot my sister’s boyfriend. But they are someone else’s criminals. They are my students, and I see them as redeemable souls, like John sees Bobby, but like so few other people do.

One of my roles in the jail was to find inmates to tutor other inmates.  Before I departed for Baltimore, I gave each tutor a copy of Brothers and Keepers. One of them, with whom I had a particularly strong  bond, asked me how I knew about the book. I told him that I’d read it at Pitt, and he seemed incredulous. I thought I told you about this book, he said. I must have looked confused, because next he told me that the book was about his father, one of Bobby’s accomplices, who also did some prison time. But, he told me, his had got out of prison and built a productive life for himself. My tutor was also trying to  figure out how he ended up in jail. It wasn’t because his father had been in prison, he told me.

So the book is good enough, and the internet makes the story even better. Since its publication, there’s been much written on Bobby’s case. Some of it enrages my bleeding liberal heart. If you read the press clippings after reading Brothers and Keepers, it’s like reading the epilogue. A letter from Bobby ends the book, but certainly didn’t end the story.
In writing this, I kept thinking of the high homicide rate for young black men. I found some stats from 2005, the year I worked at the jail the first time. Allegheny County published this conclusion, “Mirroring trends documented in other urban areas, the homicide rate for young, black men in the City of Pittsburgh was nearly 60 times the city-wide average and more than 50 times the national average.” I also read a chapter from The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness, which claims that more black men are in American prisons than had been colonial slaves.  I’ll leave you with those figures; maybe they’ll lend some clarity to how black men in Homewood make their decisions.

-- Kate Lukaszewicz, April 2012

Kate Lukaszewicz has a last name I am never certain how to spell. She is one of my favorite storytellers and conversation partners. She is my former hallmate, manager, assistant and roommate. She is awesome and out to conquer the world, with a cocktail in hand.

This is one of my new favorite descriptions of Pittsburgh.

So here we are at the end of another month in 2012. Whenever I think about how quickly this year is flying by (which has been made to happen ever quicker due to the increased number of awesome things happening lately), I think about how much is left to come (the bike trip, the pool, fireworks) just in the warm-weather months makes me excited.

Though I haven't actually done the volunteering at the time of this writing, I am spending a couple hours with BikePGH tomorrow at the Steel City Showdown (which hopefully I'll get a post out of for sometime this week). That'll bring the volunteering hours to three for the year. I'm a ways away from fifty. 

As for trying new things, I did try and keep a list this month, but halfway through I sort of gave up. I'm not happy with me either, okay? But, here is what I wrote down and what I remember: Mercurio's in Shadyside, my first cappuccino, walked across the Ellsworth Pedestrian Bridge, Taste of Dahntahn in Downtown, La Cucina Flegrea Regional Italian Cuisine in Market Square, Olive or Twist in Downtown, the Apollo Cafe in Downtown, drank beer at Shale's, had an iced latte, Eat Unique in North Oakland. Basically: I went to new restaurants. I need to do some actual NEW THINGS soon. 

Biking is going great. I actually treated myself to a new bike recently as a little pat on the back for getting to 1,000 miles. I'm continuing to have fun with it. And the nerd in me is loving all the stats that I get to play with as a result. As of writing this on Saturday evening, I've logged 1,055 miles in 2012 and have so far raised just over $850 for Gilda's Club of Western Pennsylvania. If you want to get in on the action, visit the Pedal for Pennies blog or click this link to make your pledge.

With April and its one random bizarre threat of snow behind us, it's sun and warm and good stuff ahead.

Saturday, April 28, 2012

CONFETTI April 2012: Thank you!

The last couple years I lived in Boston, I frequented Great Scott on Friday nights for The Pill. Some of my most favorite nights in Boston belong to Great Scott and the great nights of dancing and staying up late eating pizza boats. Everyone tended to fall asleep over one another's houses on couches, recliners, air mattresses, etc. At first those sleepovers seemed impromptu and out of necessity. By the end, I think we all kind of expected to wake up disoriented and in need of breakfast from any of our favorite nearby spots.  (Zaftig's and Breakfast Club are the immediate ones that pop into my mind.)

Nowadays, I spend fewer mornings waking up in someone else's living room, but I try to keep up with the great nights of dancing. When I moved back, I sought a dance night similar to what The Pill so perfectly offered, but nothing stuck. I complained to my friend Mike about this and discussed the possibility of trying to start up a dance night together. After a couple (very nervous (for me)) times DJing downstairs at Brillobox on Friday nights, we were offered an opportunity to host a dance night the fourth Thursday of every even numbered month. February was the first official CONFETTI dance party, and this past Thursday was our second one. Here are a few pics from the evening:

Blurry people dancing at CONFETTI // Mike playing tunes with a little help from Bob Saget

Why yes - we did show The Mighty Ducks on the screen behind us // Our agenda for the night; I did not play 45 minutes of Genesis - promise.

Thank you to everyone who came out on a Thursday to have some fun with me and my cousin Mike. We look forward to our next one in June!

Thursday, April 26, 2012

An Evening at the Museum: April 2012

I bought myself a membership to the Carnegie Museums at the beginning of 2012. So of course I haven't used it at all yet. Realizing that one day while biking past the Art and Natural History museums, I decided to make an effort to go as soon as possible. (As well as more often.)

One of the first treats I encountered on my visit was a display of art from 5th and 6th graders around the area. That's where I found Justin's Paranormal Records and Investigations. (Which I absolutely loved.)

Here is a lovely room.

Woah! It's a tiny room! (Speaking of "tiny," I'm writing this while watching Tiny Furniture and, holy crap, I hate this movie. Sorry, I know she is so cool right now, but ugh, this is unbearable.)

One of the main exhibits was Maya Lin. I loved the combination of geography and sculpture. The photo above is from her outline of our three rivers made with pins.

Maya Lin runs through May 13.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012


Hey! Do you like having fun? 

(See above photo re: having fun.)

Yes?! Then, come to Confetti tomorrow night!


"Have as much fun as we can make you possibly have! Cousins Michael Cunningham and Allison Rowland upstairs at Brillo, spinning the best of everything that will get your feet moving. No rules, multiple genres, and lots of awesome! IT'S SPRING. BE COLORFUL. HAVE FUN."

 I'll be one of the brightly dressed kids up on stage playing songs for you.

To dance to.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Bethel Bakery Adventures

I grew up in the South Hills. The town where I grew up (do I call it a town? a suburb? a community?) has been in the news lately because of something utterly stupid that came out of soon-to-be Republican nominee for President, Mitt Romney, during his visit to Bethel Park. If there is one thing that unites all who have ever lived in Bethel Park for a portion of their lives, it is that Bethel Bakery cake is the ONLY cake. It is - without question - the best cake in any former or present Bethel Park resident's mind. So, you'll have to understand why we were so upset when Mitt Romney looked at a plate of cookies set before him at a picnic table where he dined with four local couples, he thought this was the best thing possible to say:

(Said to the women sitting next to him.) "I'm not sure about these cookies. They don't look like you made them. No, no. They came from the local 7-eleven, bakery, or whatever."

And then, he didn't even try one. He just outwardly dismissed the food set out in front of him. What he was missing were some of the tastiest cookies you'll ever eat. I don't know how Bethel Bakery does it, but my goodness - I have no words.

Enter a new catchphrase in the political vernacular: "Cookiegate."

Honestly, I thought this was just being covered locally in Pittsburgh. But then one of my favorite musicians, Owen (Mike Kinsella), tweeted the following:

Cookiegate had become national news!

So, on Friday night while Allie and I started discussing plans for the following day, I mentioned that I would like to go get a Bethel Bakery cake. Because Allie is awesome and tends to always be up for crazy adventures, she agreed and drove to the South Hills the next morning.

I got the cake I had been dreaming about since Cookiegate started and the words "Bethel Bakery" were thrown about casually by just about everyone. I decided I needed to justify the cake-buying with a celebration. Fortunately, I had passed 1,000 miles biked for 2012 (making me 1/3 of my way to my Pedal for Pennies goal!). I went for something simple:

When we got back to Allie's car, we immediately knew something was wrong. It was making a horrible noise, and as we pulled out of the parking spot, it felt like something was dragging on the ground. We pulled back into the parking lot, and Allie jumped through numerous hoops in order to get a AAA tow truck to come and help us. This could have been a wholly horrific turn of events, which I feared having experienced a number of truly spirit-crushing dealings with AAA in the past. But we ended up being saved by the swellest AAA driver that possibly exists: Bill.

Bill showed up and of course he immediately knew what was wrong. And, also of course, he had a six-year-old black named Petunia in the truck along for the day.

Petunia was pretty awesome. And she sure loved Bill. When he left us in the truck while he got Allie's car up on the tow, she looked out the window and cried for him the entire time he was outside of the cab.

And then another swell guy I know, my dad, offered to come swing by South Park Shops and pick us up and drive us back to the city. We definitely could have taken the T (one of the greatest advantages of Bethel Park: access to the light rail), but it was cold and rainy and - goddamnit! - we had this cake we were carrying around. We were back in my apartment enjoying the world's bestest dessert before we knew it, and laughing about how crazy the past 16 hours of our lives have been.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Pens Stanley Cup Playoffs 2012: v. Flyers, Game 6

And, that's it. Pens are down and out. At least they showed some signs of life before falling to Philadelphia. Oh well.

We watched at the bar in the Shadyside Mad Mex. Allie had been talking about margaritas all weekend, so it was time to have a margarita (or two, c'mon - by the third period we needed them). The other games all felt a little special, but this one felt so lackluster. There wasn't a spark or a hopefulness in the atmosphere. All that happened was we ended up kind of drunk by 3 p.m. on Sunday.

So we went and visited our friend who works at the Quiet Storm. He said he made the best milkshakes there, and we had to experience them for ourselves.

Allie's (on the left) was a peanut butter-chocolate shake and mine was vanilla/green tea/honey. They were the perfect cure for our hockey blues. (Though tequila and ice cream... that was a little questionable judgment.)

There's been a lot of stuff going on lately - most all of it has been really good. Besides this freak snowstorm we may be getting tonight (I'll be so mad if I can't ride to work tomorrow), things are looking up. April is nearly over (which is really unbelievable). Here's to another week of adventures and everyday stuff before May arrives.

Saturday, April 21, 2012

Pens Stanley Cup Playoffs 2012: v. Flyers, Game 5

This series against the Flyers has been so unlike anything else going on in the playoffs, that I had forgotten what normal, tense, edge-of-your seat hockey playoff games are like. So, just by glancing at the 3-2 final score (in favor of the Pens!), you should be able to tell that this was not a massacre or ass-beating like the previous four games had been. And I definitely felt that difference in the last ten minutes of the game.

Funny, last game I spent the final ten minutes rationalizing with myself that there was no possible way the Flyers could score seven goals to get into the double-digits in the final half-period. This game, my restless leg syndrome (self-diagnosed) was out of control. I was torn between watching and not watching. I was having an anxiety attack, but I was also having a lot of fun.

Early into Friday's sunset on Corey's balcony.
Friday was a beyond beautiful day in Pittsburgh. It was in the mid-to-upper 70s. The sun was out. Everything (after 5:30 p.m.) was wonderful. We listened to the first period of the game while sitting on Corey's third-floor balcony on the front of the building where we both live. The sun was setting, Corey was grilling, and we were following along with Mike Lange as our guide.

While we were up there, a couple of my favorite neighborhood familiars walked by beneath us. One family who lives up the street with several little kids and a dad who is often seen running behind them while they learn to ride bikes up and down the sidewalks. The other is the blind man who I hear tapping his cane at least once a day walking down Gross. I love these comforts of home. I wonder sometimes if my neighbors see me leave with my bike every morning for work and think: "oh, there's that neighbor girl who rides that bike everywhere..."

Sun setting over Friendship Park.
For the second and third periods, we walked down Gross to Liberty and crossed the street and entered Lou's open door. We set up camp, got a few pitchers, and had a blast until we all started watching nervously as the Pens held onto their 3-2 lead in a third period where the Flyers looked beyond determined to take the game at least into overtime. (Game-winning goal scored by the best lil Piggy on the planet: KENNEDY!!)

Lou's might quickly become my go-to favorite local bar.
After the game, Allie and I walked to Brillobox on a slight adrenaline high resulting from a mix of excitement over the win and ire for a certain Sixers-wearing clown in the corner of Lou's who basically thought we were the dumbest. Sadly for him, we are not. But, everyone's entitled to their own opinions on those things. We were trying to catch the Delicious Pastries/Triggers show upstairs, but it was sold out. We hung out at the bar with friends having drinks and laughs. And then, you know, Gus Van Sant walked in and sat a couple stools down from us.

It was an odd night, with many performances of the "Margarita Dance" enjoyed. The Pens gave themselves another opportunity to prove they are better than the stinky Flyers. And they gave us another opportunity to plop down on another stool in another bar where they hopefully will chant and hoot and holler as loud and as well as the crowd did at Lou's.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Pens Stanley Cup Playoffs 2012: v. Flyers, Game 4

Well. OK! That was a lot different than the first three games! It was hard to be positive at the beginning of this game, but sitting there at the bar at the Map Room in Regent Square, something happened. It was like I instinctively knew they couldn't lose. Because if they did, they were done. And then it's just an incredibly long (and likely losing (sorry!)) season of Pirates baseball. So, they had to win. They HAD to win.

And they did.

Allie and I made friends with the guy sitting to my left. His name was Mike, and he was an interesting and awesome Pittsburgh character to talk to. He'd done some time in Boston too, and lived in a couple other cities I've visited to on my North American travels. He lives in Regent Square now, flips houses around the city and suburbs, and seems to really love being back. We gushed about how good it felt to be home finally.

With every goal the Pens scored, our little corner of the bar became more and more involved in each other's conversations. We were enjoying the company of mostly strangers. We were high-fiving and cracking jokes. Mike bought us a round of beers. I might never run into him again, but for the duration of the hockey game, we were total buds.

I rode my bike home from Regent Square overcome with that "love of Pittsburgh" feeling I get sometimes.

Let's go Pens.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

PGH Beautiful: Street Art and a Sign, April 2012

I feel like I've almost abandoned these quick little photo posts of signs and murals and street art and so on. I don't want to do that, so here are a few things I saw and felt the need to capture.

This is hanging in the upstairs bathroom at Shale's. (gently!!)

Not so sure what Karate Coyote is (a band?), but this sticker on a pole along Liberty is great.

I was up early on a Sunday morning and walked to get coffee. I arrived earlier than the coffeeshop opened, but only by ten or so minutes. Not a problem. A quick walk around the block and down an alley I'd never step foot in before was plenty okay by me.

Monday, April 16, 2012

In Other News Meet Blue

Hey Hey! Over at the Pedal for Pennies blog, where I've been logging all my bike-related thoughts (thrilling, I know), I introduced the world to my new set of wheels! I'm excited to start taking this guy around town - a simple, striking, shiny new ride.

You can also keep tabs on my Pedal for Pennies progress and learn more about that project I intend to finish. If I'd have left Pittsburgh on January 1 and just kept on going, I'd have reached Saint John, New Brunswick, by now. I'm sure the fine people who I met at Iceberg's Pub several years ago on a freezing cold winter night are wondering if I'll ever make good on my promise to return someday.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Pens Stanley Cup Playoffs 2012: v. Flyers, Game 3


That was kinda brutal. And embarrassing. Let's not talk about it. I watched with friends at my apartment. There were chips, cookies, pretzels, and Pizza Hut.

It was an absolutely gorgeous evening. So, for a pick-us-up treat, Corey, Carrie and I rode our bikes to Walnut Street for a delicious helping of gelato from Mercurio's. Afterward, I wanted to get some more miles in, so I rode through to Oakland and went across the Panther Hollow Bridge. That's one of my favorite places at sunset, so it was nice to catch one to to wrap up the week.

I stopped at the corner of Dawson and the Boulevard - my ol' stomping grounds - and caught a glimpse of that beautiful skyline. So we lost another. There's always the possibility of turning it around?

Saturday, April 14, 2012

Pens Stanley Cup Playoffs 2012: v. Flyers, Game 2

Well. That was certainly not how anyone (in Pittsburgh) wanted things to go. But, I guess that's hockey. Now we're down 0-2 in the series and there's undoubtedly a lot of nervous anxiety going on inside all Pens fans. My friend Rob reminded me that we went down 0-2 in a couple series the year we won the Cup; so this is not over yet.

Even though the game got more miserably depressing as the periods went on, I still had a blast. I was able to spring myself from work an hour early by skipping lunch. This gave me time to head to Shale's across from the Consol to meet up with one of my hockey-family buds named Matt. We had delicious Molsons on the back deck; it was a gorgeous evening for outdoor drinking. Eventually Matt's friends and my dad got to the bar for a couple before heading over the arena. Matt and I met a couple farmers who had come from Butler County for the night. The boys kept sending me inside for beers because I am a girl, and in a bar before a Penguins game full of bro-dudes, that is how you get beer quickest.

1. Back deck @ Shale's; 2. This dino is named "Dark Horse" after James Neal and it is pretty awesome; 3. In PGH, we put our churches to work...

One of my favorite things about games at the Consol is the sense of family we've created for ourselves. My dad knows most all of the ushers there by now, but last night a new guy named "Norm" was watching over our section. Norm looked to be in his late 60s, early 70s. He looked like a grandpa. My dad has a very particular way of singing the National Anthem when Jeff Jimerson is the game's opening act. He's loud and kind of obnoxious in a way, but he is sincere and earnest in his efforts, so it ends up being really endearing. Norm, through the boisterous applause after the Anthem was over turned to my dad, shook his hand, and said that was one of the best renditions of the Anthem that he's ever heard. My heart melted.

I hope Norm liked us as much as we liked him. He must have, because at one point me, my dad, Matt, two of my dad's CMU fraternity brothers, and Ron were all crowded behind the two seats in my dad's possession. We were having a blast.

1. Taken from inside the Consol - we live in a beautiful city; 2. Crazy crowd explosion during the Pens' entry onto the ice; 3. THE RARE PAUL MARTIN GOAL!

The last exciting moment of the night was a goal by TYLER KENNEDY.........KENNEDY! By this point, most everyone who frequents the area around the top of Section 227 knows about my obsession with the little pig man. So, when he scored a go-ahead goal, everyone in the vicinity went NUTS. Tommy, the beer vendor who seriously loves my dad and me, came RUNNING over to us with cans of Labatt and shouting my name and Kennedy's name over and over. He gave us those beers to celebrate; what a good guy.

1. When things were still going good; 2. For whatever reason, I always look like a maniac in the photos I take with Iceburgh; 3. Toward the end of the game when sadness was growing and my hiccups were ceaseless...

So. We lost. Yikes. Well, at least it was a super fun night spent with people I don't get to see all the time. Next game is tomorrow, and I think I'm having people over (woo! go NHL on NBC!). For now, it's time to fill the gaping hole in my stomach with pizza from Big Jim's.

Oh! And if you like those photos, you can follow me on Instagram, which I'm currently obsessed it. Communicating through photos?! Yes. Please.

everythingbetterpgh on Instagram

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Pens Stanley Cup Playoffs 2012: v. Flyers, Game 1

Well, that was a heartbreaker. For real. I was hoping to start off this series with a really exciting and good entry about how awesome it was to watch the Pens take Game 1 against the Flyers while enjoying cheap beers and cheaper pizza boats at The Rock Room. Instead, we got one period of awesome hockey and two periods and a handful of minutes of overtime witnessing a terrifying comeback. Ugh. Regardess of the loss, I am happy to be embarking on a new project. I don't have cable, so all of the game that are NOT on NBC, I have to figure out a place to watch them. I've turned my problem into a project. For the entirety of the Pens playoff games (of which there will hopefully be many games), I will try to watch the games in different settings each time. (Sometimes I'll even be there!)

Tonight a nice group gathered at The Rock Room in Polish Hill. Allie and I had planned to go there tonight anyway for the 50 cent pizza boats, so that Game 1 was also tonight? Great coincidence. We set up a couple of tables in the back room and watched most of the game on a really crappy big screen TV. Alas, it was not to be. The Flyers with a comeback in overtime. My goodness. This series might stress me out way way way too much.

Making the boats!

Let's Go Pens!

I'm already anticipating Friday to be a very messy night. I'll be going to the game with my dad, but several of my hockey friends have already been texting me for meet-ups before the game. I cant help it. It's playoff hockey time! There is no other time of the year when my heart beats this fast. There is no other time of year when I count down the minutes to gametime. I am excited, not disheartened. I never thought we'd sweep them anyways.

Until Friday...

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

A Saturday Morning in Lawrenceville: Graffiti and Street Art, April 2012

Here's the last installment from a lovely Saturday spent looking for new oddities around the streets of Lawrenceville, specifically new bits of graffiti and street art. Enjoy!