-Graffiti Books-

[2501]

Oh man, if Shitty Kitten is in it that book is gonna be pissah!

[shitinon12oz]

the book will be all dope handstyles

i have about 65 so far

getting more

[LiketheSeaMen]

handstyles for days

[Media One]

crack and shine

 

[Schnitzel]

recently read "international topsprayer" -

jesus what a book.

 

lotta good pics in there.

 

looking forward to the Kaoss book in abig way

[Darkeist]

dude needs to post the Beat The Clock book! Looks dope!!

[sktr]

crack and shine

 

 

Nice action in Lisbon's downtown. Looking forward for that episode.

[Media One]

got crack and shine book earlier, haven't had a proper read yet but its heavy

[Media One]

supe fmk new book limited to 300 copies

[Waxaddict]

dude needs to post the Beat The Clock book! Looks dope!!

 

Here you go (in a few albums since imgur had a limit on how many I could do at once.)

 

Enjoy.

 

1. http://imgur.com/a/jOXdX

2. http://imgur.com/a/yV3Tp

3. http://imgur.com/a/fuEcu

 

Just noticed some are upside down and whatever, fuck sake. I tried.

[Media One]

Like Xplicit Grafx’ “SABOTAGE” book described back in the 90’s, the Belgium railway company is not lucky being located between 3 big graffiti countries such as Germany, Holland and France. In the beginning the red trains were mostly painted by foreigners in Belgium -the country with the world’s closest railway network-, but in the mid-90’s the Belgians took over and developed a respectful, small but active train writing scene with a huge variety of styles.

Alias Press brings the history of one Europe’s most bombed railway systems featuring local writers and the international guests the country has seen over the years mixed with reports, stories and interviews

 

[Media One]

http://www.graffitiunderworld.com/book.html

[Mindfux]

i highly suggest the Piecebooks by sacha jenkins and david villorente

 

 

they look like legit blackbooks, the quality is fucking amazing...some of the pens have metallic sheems to them, or bleed throughs like it was the original copy

[Sneak613]

I figured I'd post up a link to this new book that Visual Orgasm is selling:

 

Visual Orgasm: The Early Years of Canadian Graffiti

 

192 Pages - signed by author.

Foreword by graffiti legend Zephyr.

Featuring artists from across Canada that helped shape the graffiti scene in the cold north in the 1980's and early 90's.

Cities featured are Vancouver, Victoria, Winnipeg, Ottawa, Toronto and Montreal.

Artists featured are Ghost, Dubnut, Dooer, Word, Dzine, Virus, Sinex, Neos, PD, Dope2, Zlok, Dedos, Krewz, Ephx, Sear, Daub, Zilon, Buddha, Daser, Ren, Galooch, LaBomba and Sady.

 

 

 

Finally, a book out of Canada!! :) (granted, I'm a bit biased)

[STYLEISKING]

CAUSE I AM

 

WHO I SAY I AM/ THE NEWS BREAKER HIMSELF

 

EMAIL - causeiamtop@yahoo.com to be added on pre-order list.

PRE-ORDER DATE FEBRUARY 20 2012

 

RELEASE DATE / UNTIL ANNOUNCEMENT IS POSTED!

 

SELF-PUBLISH BY DURO CIA TOP & TRANSITWEAR.COM

 

THIS BOOK WILL NOT BE AVAILABLE IN STORES

 

124 pages over 110 pages in colors

 

Below are a few sample pages

 

 

 

t has been over 10 years in the making; I had promise that one day I would tell my story. What I am about to do now is to take you back to the mid-1970s. We were just kids running around playing and doing what I guess is what every kid around the world does, in search of adventure. I have symptomatic and artistically composed some of my many adventures throughout my years. I have touch many subjects in which I believe will entertain you and at the same time I will share with you some truth behind my true-life stories and escapade, in a world full of stars legends kings and icons. Cause I Am / Who I Say I Am

 

Some of the subjects I write about are as follow.

 

1. Truth behind the CIA KINGS.

 

2. The truth and facts behind the shooting of PG 3

 

3. The real story behind the Graff wars of the 1980’s.

 

4. The death of family and friends

 

5. The gallery do and don’ts

 

6. Fame and destruction

 

7. Drugs and treatment

 

8. Vandals squad

 

9. Friends, enemies and betrayals

 

10. Lies and Liars

 

11. Families and Friends, that I have forgiven, plus the love of God

 

I do intend of publishing the second half of this title “CAUSE I AM”, in the meantime, in this release I have cover the years 1957 to 1985. I have left out many important aspect of my life manly from the years 1986 to 2011. However, in this publication I have shared, the truth about false lies and rumors, Now that I have written down my story, I expect that there is going to be a bunch of haters, they will come out to play. In closing, My advise to the young artists of tomorrow, is this observation.

 

When you make friends or acquaintances which ever you prefer, keep in mind the following. If the person you hang out with or sharing your life with begins to talk bad about someone in your presence, listen carefully to what he or she is saying, because in reality what's is stopping them from talking about you, this is how you know, what kind of character and person, he or she truly are. It is not the contents of the skin, but the content of integrity and honesty.

 

Final words: I forgive, but I do not forget, God is love,

 

 

N.Y.C HALL OF FAME

SUBWAY ARTIST, SUBWAY PAINTERS, SUBWAY WRITERS.

 

In this section, I have composed a list of writers that took part in the New York City Transit Authority Art Movement History. My goal is to take back our rightful terminology of our art form. “Subway Artist - Subway Painters” or “Subway Writers” is more appropriate in describing our activity and adventures.

Since the very beginning, the foundation of our art form has always been in the name. I have used the term graffiti many times in the pass but by no means have I ever considered myself, a graffiti vandal.

I myself wrote in the inside of subway cars, to me it was a statement that had to be made It was one of many tools of the trade, that I use in getting up, going bombing, going hitting.

 

Traveling from borough to borough trying to put up my name in every spots or places as possible. The way I saw it was if you wanted to be call a king then you had to do everything that is requited of you in order for me to succeed in acquiring my goals in going all city, tagging, throw-ups, whole cars and “Top to Bottom” was part of my determination, to gain status only given to you by your peers.

Simply put we were and are writers, expressing our condition in the ghetto, and against the establishment. I will try to name as many writer as I can to acknowledge their contributions to our history. If I have forgotten some names, I apologize. We all play a little part in this art form, so I respect every one of you that dare to dream. I honor you when I wrote the following statement. The Legends, Thou Kings, The Icons from the people to the people.

FOR A LIST OF WRITERS NAME YOU GOING TO HAVE TO BUY THE BOOK!

I HEARD THOSE PROMISES BEFORE

 

I was shaking and out of breath, I could not hear myself screaming, I was gasping for air! Trying to tell my mom no! However, as I was observing my surroundings I was not the only kid in that place screaming and crying, hearing and seeing that I was not alone. I grab on to my mother leg for dear life, gasping for air and yelling I do not want to stay here, no please! I wanted to go home. Then I heard my mom-yelling at me to stop crying, she told me that she was going to be right outside in the hallway, look at your brother he is not crying she said, everything is going be okay! I am not leaving you here! She said, so stop crying, if you do not stop, then I am going to leave you here, when we finish here, we will stop by the store on our way home and I will buy you a big bag of candy. However, I did not care if she was getting me a big bag of candy, it was stills not enough for me to stop crying, it was for sure a trick I thought. I heard these promises before, what I really wanted was to get out of that place. You see that was my first day of school, I did not understand what the hell this school thing was all I saw was a bunch of tables, chairs and all those kids screaming and crying, I thought this got to be a bad place to be in, all the kids I saw there, were crying. Why did I have to stay in that place? I wanted my mother to tell me come on we going home.

 

Then from behind me I heard a lady’s voice saying, it is ok Raul," this was the very first time I ever had heard my real name. She said your mom is not going anywhere, I thought to myself, who is she talking too, who is this Raul, as far as I knew, that was not my name, my name was Cuco, it could not be me she was talking about! Again, she said your mother is going to be staying in the back of the classroom. I refuse to believe what that person was telling me, I did not know who she was, she turn out to be my first grade teacher. She told me to sit down here, and pointed over to a row of tables and chairs she told me they are yours, I thought she must be crazy I was not going to sit anywhere but with my mom.

 

After a little while, I sat down, but still I did not feel any safer, every now and then, I would turn my head to see if my mom was still sitting in the back of the room. Then I heard the woman saying kids it is now time for snacks, I thought what is going to happen now. I had no idea what she meant. But then I saw that she started walking around the class, she began to hand out cookies and milk, by this time I was beat tired and very hungry, after I finish eating, I started to feel a little better, that was because I knew that my mom was still in the back of the classroom. Then she said okay kids, we were going to take a little nap, again what was she talking about this time? I look back at mom to get some kind of reaction from her, but by the look on her face, I knew she also did not understand what that woman was saying either.

 

Then the clock struck 12 noon, then that women announced to the class that it was recess for the day. I was still hungry so I thought that she was going to give us some more cookies and milk. To my surprise, it was over, one by one I saw all of the kids in the class started to get up from their chair and started running towards their parents, in one swift move before I even realize it, I had my arms tightly around my mom waste. Once again, I was holding on to my mom for dear life. I was going to make sure that my mom was not leaving me there.

 

For the next couple of month’s my mom came with me to school she had to stay with me until I began to feel better, and more comfortable in that place. One day I had a funny feeling that something was very wrong. I turn my head to see if my mom was still there, but she was gone. I stood up and I headed for the door, as I was getting close to the door, I felt somebody running behind me, she grabbed me by my arm, I began screaming for my mom. Saying where you are mom, I reach for the door handle, but just as I got to the doorknob to open the door. My teacher pulled me back from the door, picked me up and took me back to my seat, as she turned to walk away from me. I broke loose and ran to the closet, I was still shouting and gasping for air. I open the closet door, I pulled all the coats down, from their hangers and cover myself, I found a little corner in the back of the closet, I rolled up in a fetal position like a little ball, still crying my lungs out screaming mami, I want my mami. Underneath that mountain of sweaters and coats, I found my comfort, and soon I had failing asleep. Later on, I learn that the school had sent somebody to pick up my mother, they wanted her to help them get me out of that closet, and year’s later mom told me the story.

 

We were living in the Brownsville section of Brooklyn must have been in the mid-1960s around 65 or 66. I always remember sitting by the front window with my brother. Our apartment was on the fifth floor, my brother and I would spend all days, just watching all the kids on the block playing, we was never allowed to go outside, our mom always told us that it was too dangerous to be outside, through those window I saw many fights, people sniffing glue. I did not know what they were doing, but mom would explain to us that it was something bad; it was not until a few years later that I found out that the group of people that we saw running was actually a street Gang. That was pretty much how our lives were back then. It was like watching a movie on TV everything was in fast motion, at times the action would slow down enough that we was able to watch the cops chasing a bunch of those kids going up and down the block, they were still holding on to their bag of glue, running into the abandoned buildings. They looked to me as if they were cartoons but in living colors. Not like the way I saw them on TV, where everything we watch was in black and white.

 

MY FIRST PIECE

 

That year I finally graduated to the 8th grade, and I was going to Bushwick high school. In 1974, we moved back to the East New York section of Brooklyn, this time on Pennsylvania Avenue and liberty Avenue. I kept attending Bushwick high school, I never told the school we had moved. Having to take the train to school give me a chance to tag on the trains. I thought this was the only way other writer was tagging the trains. We call it motion tagging, but later on I found out about the train lay- ups, and train yards. Even though I called myself a writer little that, I knew that I was not a real writer yet. Until 1975, we used to play handball in the back of Maxwell High School for girls. That summer around my neighborhood,

 

I used to see tags by the EX Vandals, and the Top Crew. Then one day I began to see the name CD I knew it was short for Crazy Dike from the Top Crew. Edwin who I knew already but I hand no idea he wrote Sid the Kid, or that he was Dike’s brother, he use to play handball with me, I finally knew a real writer and they were from the Top crew, even if you was not a writer you knew who they were. They had every single train car, you could not miss seeing their names, especially IN TOP AKA KILL3, TOTOP AKA MICKEY 729 OITOP AKA HURST, DY 167 JESTER, IO TOP, and JEE2 AKA JAMES TOP they were legends in the game back in those days, and continue to be today.

 

Later that year, I had met most of the writers in the Top crew everybody in our neighborhood were writing too. The media had labeled our writing as vandalism they called it graffiti of the ghetto. They had written in a newspaper article that it was mostly Hispanic, African-American kids. Who were out of control defacing the city with graffiti? Nevertheless, the truth was that graffiti was not exclusive to the slopes of New York there were plenty of white kids in rich neighborhoods that was writing graffiti also.

 

One day we were all hanging out in the schoolyard tagging up the walls, we had just finish racking up spray paint (stealing). When this kid we knew that also was flying pigeons, back in them days with a friend of mine who also wrote “NONO” came into the park. We knew him as Don and his friend as Pnut they saw us tagging. Don ask little IK, that stands for (Crazy Ik aka Incredible Hulk) if he could take a tag Ik give him a can we said wow you tag too he said yeah I do. He took a tag that said Naco I was like get out of here that’s you I seen it around the neighborhood and in trains, but Dike whisper to me that he was not the original Naco, I really didn’t care back then, I was not a full-fledged writer, and I hardly knew the history. All I knew was that he was like one of us kids that wrote around the neighborhood. From that day forth he was coming almost every day to the park, we all hanged out there drinking beer and smoking weed. He became my handball partner we was unstoppable we beat everybody.

 

One morning we decided to go racking up paint (steal) the day before Sid and his cousin Ik had went to the double LL lay- up. He got my cousin and me all open up about it we told them if they would take us, I was saying to myself, wow this is what I always wanted to do, was to go hitting the trains. My cousin Ray and I who wrote Flin it’s short for (Flintstone) wanted to go too, cause Sid told us that they was going bombing again. I had one major problem I had a 7pm curfew I spent hours trying to figure out how was I going to able to go bombing, Sid told us that the best time to go was after 11pm that night. I came up with an excuse to tell my mom, I was going to the tell her that we were going to the movie theater in the city, we figure out that the last show ended at 11pm, so we had an hour to get back home form the movies. I knew that we needed more time it was not that hard for me because I had use the same excuse before that the train got delay. We also had to figure out where we were going to hang out. It was a long gap between hours. We left my house at 8pm it was 3-hour difference, we decided to hang out at the corner club where we always handed out to play pool. I must admit waiting to go bombing, was excruciating not to mention how scare I knew it was going to be.

 

Finally, the time had come to head to the lay-up. Leaving the pool hall we had to make sure none of my parent’s friends would see us, we took the long way to the lay-up. The night was very cold, the wind was blowing hard, and the branches of the trees were breaking off. When we finally had reach the block, Ik told Flin to hold his bag then he proceeded to climb up alone the track support beams, I couldn't believe that was the way to get up to the lay- up. I told them I was not going to climb up that beam, I said shit bro this is too dangerous, was there any other way in, I look up and saw that Ik was more than half way up the beam. Sid told me come on bro I will help you to climb up.

IN THE NEW LOTS YARD 1980

 

A few weeks had past Kel, Dondi and I painted our last whole car together on the BMT’s J line. A Dondi, Sono aka Duro and Welch aka Kel First, I think the Dondi he painted in this car is the best piece Dondi have ever done. Noc 167 was a big influence on Dondi back then.

 

During this period, I painted a few more whole cars on the BMT and IND’s subway lines in which I do not have photos of, I remember the pieces by name; I hope that one day I could find a photo of any of them. I am missing the following pieces and whole cars.

 

An unfinished T2B whole car the Kid 56, Duro on the 4 line, A Criminals Invading Again on the BMT J line, A Kist, Duro T2B whole car, on the IND’S CC line, A Prisoners Of Graffiti window down whole car on the BMT M line, also I painted a few more piece on the IRT’s 2 line, We’re Not Criminals on the IRT’s 5 line, A Min, Duro T2B whole car on the 3 line, A Duro, Crime 79 window down whole car on the BMT’s J line, A News Breaker, Kist on the BMT’s J line.

 

But most important to me is my last piece on the trains, it was a Duroc T2B whole car on the BMT’s LL line, funny how I started my first piece on the double LL line, and I did my last piece on the trains in the same double LL lay-up.

 

It was a cold night out and Deal was coming to Dondi house cause they had plan to go to Utica lay-up and paint a Top Two Bottom whole car, Dondi call me up and ask me if I wanted to go, I had 11 cans, so I told him yeah I was down to go. This was my first one-man (T2B), whole car. I was drunk that night and we had been smoking all day, Deal finally arrived at Dondi’s house. We then left, it was a full moon out and I was very eager to go bombing, it is a feeling that only writers would know about. This was my second trip to Utica lay-up. Everything that night felt as if I were moving in slow motion some kind of suspended animation, we had to climb up this metal gates then we had to go through this hole in the fence. The entrance of the tunnel was like two long blocks away. We headed along the catwalk, there are three lanes of tracks, and one of the lanes was lower than the other two. I had to jump down, and then we had to run down this long ass tunnel, because if the train was coming we would have been trap between the train and the wall, there was no clearance where we had to go to, or for sure, a train would have run us over.

 

We finally got to the spot where we painted before, last time we were there; we had stashed two ladders we had found. One ladder was small and the other ladder was long. Dondi and Deal took the small ladder, I was stuck with the big ladder, and it was so big that I had to rest the bottom of the ladder against the back wall, the top of the ladder rested on the top of the train. I had to be careful walking on this ladder, at the same time I had to balance myself, just to reach close enough to reach the train to start my piece. I would bet that when Deal read this story he is going to die laughing.

 

Here I was dangling in the air trying to paint my piece. I do not know how I ever manage to paint my piece that night but I did, anyway during one of my climbs the ladder slip off the top of the train. I went flying in the air; I landed in-between two of the steps of the ladder and almost broke my balls. This is not the first and last time I would fall in a tunnel. I will explain it later in more detail in my next journey to the underworld. I ended up breaking off a piece of the ladder to make it smaller for me to use, the ladder was still long but I did not have to be dangling in the air with the greatest of ease.

 

Style for me is a way of life, from the very beginning of our birth God gives each one of us our very own unique style. If you stop for a second and look back at your life, you will find that more than 75% of what make you a person is what we have learn through out our short lives on earth, in one form or another from people just like yourself.

 

I define my style as having no ends, I can do and go anywhere, and I can determine in which direction I choose to create or do. I refuse to put limits on my process of thinking or seeing the world as being just a physical environment of my body, so with my God given talent I allowed my mind to experience a new world beyond my limitations.

 

I started painting model train over 10 years ago, the energy came floating back to me as if I was still in the yard in the mist of rusted metal. I felt the same drive that I had many years ago, where getting up and taking king of the line, was my goal. As I sit here, I cannot help but to remember my three friends Dondi, Shy, and Kist, whom went with me on many adventures, yes there is an empty space in my heart. I go on today knowing that one day I would get to be with them again in heaven. We will once again take kings of the all lines. Transit Original Printers I also would like to thank “Sain TOP CIA” for his support and love and who I consider one my best friends

 

Since I was very young I had always been interested in the arts, drawing is one of the things I have done in my life where it felt very natural to me. In this place is where I could let my thought run free, I could create my own little world in which I could be in charge of my dreams. In this world I can choose my imaginary friends of characters, I can choose their personalities, the way they talk, walk, and even think. In this world, I had full control in how I want to be treated; my characters accept me for who I am with no strings attached. I would always spend hours sketching and drawing what I saw around me, and I was good at it too. In my first art class in school, I found a place to hide in; my teacher would complement me on my drawings. That encourages me to expand my imaginary characters. Even though my teacher had no idea of my secrets world, she helped me from my tormenters in school.

 

As I writing this I realize that in one way or another I have always been tormented in my life, it really never has stop, but I always had someone by my side, though I have known this person all my life, I was blind to the fact he has been with me every step of the way. He had created me, and at times I know I have fail him, but he has always love me unconditionally, and there have been times when I thought to myself, I suppose If I was him I don’t think I would have forgiven me as easy as he is to forgive all of us, but time and again he has. Not only has he forgiven me, but he has also taught me that before I can come to him for his forgiveness, I first had to forgive all the people that had hurt me in my life. All of a sudden, I realized how much sense it all makes now, how I could have not seen it before, how can I expect to be forgiven, when I have not forgiven my tormenters, it all so clear for me now. I most forgive first in order to ask for forgiveness. I know that by now you are wondering what this paragraph above has anything to do on how I started my story. When you get accuse of something horrible, and you know it is not true you can only go on with your life. I have forgiven them all. I am so great full that I have had a small part to play in an art movement that has grown from the streets of New York City to the world. I find it funny now that when this whole gallery thing first came about in the 80’s I chose to pass on it, because I love the secrecy of remaining unknown and only a few knew my identity. I believe so much in what I had learned from the Top Crew and in the traditions, they handed down to me. Ever since, I have carried the torch with respect and pride. I also saw that the gallery owners were very greedy and wanted to get rich of the artist hard work, I wanted no part of that. Years later Dondi told me that I was correct about them, he felt cheated. My dear friend Dondi learn this lesson the hard way, he told me he felt betrayed, by those who was helping him when he first was making his transition from metal to canvas. Back then I also felt I was too active and I knew I was wanted by the vandal squad, It got too hot for me, I had just been interview for a TV special, and Craig Castleman had published a book, and there I was on the front cover in the yard, showing the world how it was done.

 

Shy 147, who knew Hickey and ski, told me they had told him in so many words that if they ever caught me. Somebody was going to break my hands. Ok I was hot on the IRT’s 2’s and 5’s lines, so I laid low for a while, I had just stop going to the BMT’s J lines because of all the whole cars we had done on the line. Kist had gotten stop by two cops that had busted his cousin, they ask Kist to give me a message, and they told him that I had gotten away last week in the A yard by the skin of my ass. They told him how piss off they were that they miss me by mere seconds, because they saw all the damage I’ve have done to the insides, they had wiped my tag with their hand, and they found out that the ink was still fresh and wet. So I went back to BMT”S again. I was not ready for the art world, Dondi try to encourage me to paint, we even went to all of the abandoned buildings in our neighborhood, and we took all the wood panels that covered the windows, we decided to use them to paint on and use them as canvas. Years later we joke about it we had 30 panels in his basement, people looked at us like if we were crazy. You will read more about this as I go alone. Flash forward to 1998 I had just came home, that same week James Top got in contact with me and ask me if I would like to stop by cause he had organized an exhibition to honor Dondi, I had no idea that the movement was very much alive. I went to the show, when I got there this reporter stuck a microphone out and started asking me all these questions, I was very much surprise. I had stopped writing way back in 1985, but in an instant, I reverted to that Duro character again, you see because of my fame. I learn to stay away from cameras or let anyone take a photo of me, I would have to guess that because I did not let anybody get to close to me, people didn’t like me much, I guess they thought I had a chip on my shoulders. The truth is that because I been hurt too many times in my life, I let my Duro character live again, very much antisocial. I bring this on myself because I am the kind of person, that do not walk up to people and say hay how you doing or what is up. I do not mean to be disrespectful to anyone. This is how I learn to protect myself ever since I was a kid. I taught myself that I was not good enough to hang out with or talk to anyone. My mechanism reacts and kicks in to defense myself it pops up at times to protect my inner child. In other words, I have a hard time trusting anyone.

 

In the last 13 years, I started painting again; first because I had made a promise to Dondi years ago that I would one day show my artwork in galleries. In the beginning, a few friends were helpful, better yet; those who I thought was my friends had encouraged me to paint, it so happen they betrayed me just as they had done to my friend Dondi. The difference is that I always knew their intentions and motives; you see when a grown man shakes your hand. Then turn around and talk about you behind your back, in my eyes they are not man enough, or have no balls to tell it to my face, to me they are bitches. When you read this you will know who you are, one thing I have never been was a punk. I just had to put this in writing, stop making phone calls or going on the internet and step to me, when you see me, you see as little as I am I will fight you, if you beat me up that’s all good, but I will still walk away as a man. I am sorry for the interruption my friends. Anyway, below I have put together a range of some of my artwork, each one tells a story if you know what to look for, I hind some symbols that have a more intense meanings, then what the ordinary eyes is able to glance at first look. I added just a few of my work, I wish I can show my whole body of work, but publishing a book myself, I have to cut down on the cost. I have left out most of my old works, I intent to leave it unpublished for my family to manage when I am gone.

duro book coming soon...

[Howie Feltersnatch]

Brah, I think the Duro book already dropped on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Touched-Jerry-Sandusky-Story/dp/1582613575

[STYLEISKING]

[Schnitzel]

CAUSE I AM

 

WHO I SAY I AM/ THE NEWS BREAKER HIMSELF

 

EMAIL - causeiamtop@yahoo.com to be added on pre-order list.

PRE-ORDER DATE FEBRUARY 20 2012

 

RELEASE DATE / UNTIL ANNOUNCEMENT IS POSTED!

 

SELF-PUBLISH BY DURO CIA TOP & TRANSITWEAR.COM

 

THIS BOOK WILL NOT BE AVAILABLE IN STORES

 

124 pages over 110 pages in colors

 

Below are a few sample pages

 

 

 

t has been over 10 years in the making; I had promise that one day I would tell my story. What I am about to do now is to take you back to the mid-1970s. We were just kids running around playing and doing what I guess is what every kid around the world does, in search of adventure. I have symptomatic and artistically composed some of my many adventures throughout my years. I have touch many subjects in which I believe will entertain you and at the same time I will share with you some truth behind my true-life stories and escapade, in a world full of stars legends kings and icons. Cause I Am / Who I Say I Am

 

Some of the subjects I write about are as follow.

 

1. Truth behind the CIA KINGS.

 

2. The truth and facts behind the shooting of PG 3

 

3. The real story behind the Graff wars of the 1980’s.

 

4. The death of family and friends

 

5. The gallery do and don’ts

 

6. Fame and destruction

 

7. Drugs and treatment

 

8. Vandals squad

 

9. Friends, enemies and betrayals

 

10. Lies and Liars

 

11. Families and Friends, that I have forgiven, plus the love of God

 

I do intend of publishing the second half of this title “CAUSE I AM”, in the meantime, in this release I have cover the years 1957 to 1985. I have left out many important aspect of my life manly from the years 1986 to 2011. However, in this publication I have shared, the truth about false lies and rumors, Now that I have written down my story, I expect that there is going to be a bunch of haters, they will come out to play. In closing, My advise to the young artists of tomorrow, is this observation.

 

When you make friends or acquaintances which ever you prefer, keep in mind the following. If the person you hang out with or sharing your life with begins to talk bad about someone in your presence, listen carefully to what he or she is saying, because in reality what's is stopping them from talking about you, this is how you know, what kind of character and person, he or she truly are. It is not the contents of the skin, but the content of integrity and honesty.

 

Final words: I forgive, but I do not forget, God is love,

 

 

N.Y.C HALL OF FAME

SUBWAY ARTIST, SUBWAY PAINTERS, SUBWAY WRITERS.

 

In this section, I have composed a list of writers that took part in the New York City Transit Authority Art Movement History. My goal is to take back our rightful terminology of our art form. “Subway Artist - Subway Painters” or “Subway Writers” is more appropriate in describing our activity and adventures.

Since the very beginning, the foundation of our art form has always been in the name. I have used the term graffiti many times in the pass but by no means have I ever considered myself, a graffiti vandal.

I myself wrote in the inside of subway cars, to me it was a statement that had to be made It was one of many tools of the trade, that I use in getting up, going bombing, going hitting.

 

Traveling from borough to borough trying to put up my name in every spots or places as possible. The way I saw it was if you wanted to be call a king then you had to do everything that is requited of you in order for me to succeed in acquiring my goals in going all city, tagging, throw-ups, whole cars and “Top to Bottom” was part of my determination, to gain status only given to you by your peers.

Simply put we were and are writers, expressing our condition in the ghetto, and against the establishment. I will try to name as many writer as I can to acknowledge their contributions to our history. If I have forgotten some names, I apologize. We all play a little part in this art form, so I respect every one of you that dare to dream. I honor you when I wrote the following statement. The Legends, Thou Kings, The Icons from the people to the people.

FOR A LIST OF WRITERS NAME YOU GOING TO HAVE TO BUY THE BOOK!

I HEARD THOSE PROMISES BEFORE

 

I was shaking and out of breath, I could not hear myself screaming, I was gasping for air! Trying to tell my mom no! However, as I was observing my surroundings I was not the only kid in that place screaming and crying, hearing and seeing that I was not alone. I grab on to my mother leg for dear life, gasping for air and yelling I do not want to stay here, no please! I wanted to go home. Then I heard my mom-yelling at me to stop crying, she told me that she was going to be right outside in the hallway, look at your brother he is not crying she said, everything is going be okay! I am not leaving you here! She said, so stop crying, if you do not stop, then I am going to leave you here, when we finish here, we will stop by the store on our way home and I will buy you a big bag of candy. However, I did not care if she was getting me a big bag of candy, it was stills not enough for me to stop crying, it was for sure a trick I thought. I heard these promises before, what I really wanted was to get out of that place. You see that was my first day of school, I did not understand what the hell this school thing was all I saw was a bunch of tables, chairs and all those kids screaming and crying, I thought this got to be a bad place to be in, all the kids I saw there, were crying. Why did I have to stay in that place? I wanted my mother to tell me come on we going home.

 

Then from behind me I heard a lady’s voice saying, it is ok Raul," this was the very first time I ever had heard my real name. She said your mom is not going anywhere, I thought to myself, who is she talking too, who is this Raul, as far as I knew, that was not my name, my name was Cuco, it could not be me she was talking about! Again, she said your mother is going to be staying in the back of the classroom. I refuse to believe what that person was telling me, I did not know who she was, she turn out to be my first grade teacher. She told me to sit down here, and pointed over to a row of tables and chairs she told me they are yours, I thought she must be crazy I was not going to sit anywhere but with my mom.

 

After a little while, I sat down, but still I did not feel any safer, every now and then, I would turn my head to see if my mom was still sitting in the back of the room. Then I heard the woman saying kids it is now time for snacks, I thought what is going to happen now. I had no idea what she meant. But then I saw that she started walking around the class, she began to hand out cookies and milk, by this time I was beat tired and very hungry, after I finish eating, I started to feel a little better, that was because I knew that my mom was still in the back of the classroom. Then she said okay kids, we were going to take a little nap, again what was she talking about this time? I look back at mom to get some kind of reaction from her, but by the look on her face, I knew she also did not understand what that woman was saying either.

 

Then the clock struck 12 noon, then that women announced to the class that it was recess for the day. I was still hungry so I thought that she was going to give us some more cookies and milk. To my surprise, it was over, one by one I saw all of the kids in the class started to get up from their chair and started running towards their parents, in one swift move before I even realize it, I had my arms tightly around my mom waste. Once again, I was holding on to my mom for dear life. I was going to make sure that my mom was not leaving me there.

 

For the next couple of month’s my mom came with me to school she had to stay with me until I began to feel better, and more comfortable in that place. One day I had a funny feeling that something was very wrong. I turn my head to see if my mom was still there, but she was gone. I stood up and I headed for the door, as I was getting close to the door, I felt somebody running behind me, she grabbed me by my arm, I began screaming for my mom. Saying where you are mom, I reach for the door handle, but just as I got to the doorknob to open the door. My teacher pulled me back from the door, picked me up and took me back to my seat, as she turned to walk away from me. I broke loose and ran to the closet, I was still shouting and gasping for air. I open the closet door, I pulled all the coats down, from their hangers and cover myself, I found a little corner in the back of the closet, I rolled up in a fetal position like a little ball, still crying my lungs out screaming mami, I want my mami. Underneath that mountain of sweaters and coats, I found my comfort, and soon I had failing asleep. Later on, I learn that the school had sent somebody to pick up my mother, they wanted her to help them get me out of that closet, and year’s later mom told me the story.

 

We were living in the Brownsville section of Brooklyn must have been in the mid-1960s around 65 or 66. I always remember sitting by the front window with my brother. Our apartment was on the fifth floor, my brother and I would spend all days, just watching all the kids on the block playing, we was never allowed to go outside, our mom always told us that it was too dangerous to be outside, through those window I saw many fights, people sniffing glue. I did not know what they were doing, but mom would explain to us that it was something bad; it was not until a few years later that I found out that the group of people that we saw running was actually a street Gang. That was pretty much how our lives were back then. It was like watching a movie on TV everything was in fast motion, at times the action would slow down enough that we was able to watch the cops chasing a bunch of those kids going up and down the block, they were still holding on to their bag of glue, running into the abandoned buildings. They looked to me as if they were cartoons but in living colors. Not like the way I saw them on TV, where everything we watch was in black and white.

 

MY FIRST PIECE

 

That year I finally graduated to the 8th grade, and I was going to Bushwick high school. In 1974, we moved back to the East New York section of Brooklyn, this time on Pennsylvania Avenue and liberty Avenue. I kept attending Bushwick high school, I never told the school we had moved. Having to take the train to school give me a chance to tag on the trains. I thought this was the only way other writer was tagging the trains. We call it motion tagging, but later on I found out about the train lay- ups, and train yards. Even though I called myself a writer little that, I knew that I was not a real writer yet. Until 1975, we used to play handball in the back of Maxwell High School for girls. That summer around my neighborhood,

 

I used to see tags by the EX Vandals, and the Top Crew. Then one day I began to see the name CD I knew it was short for Crazy Dike from the Top Crew. Edwin who I knew already but I hand no idea he wrote Sid the Kid, or that he was Dike’s brother, he use to play handball with me, I finally knew a real writer and they were from the Top crew, even if you was not a writer you knew who they were. They had every single train car, you could not miss seeing their names, especially IN TOP AKA KILL3, TOTOP AKA MICKEY 729 OITOP AKA HURST, DY 167 JESTER, IO TOP, and JEE2 AKA JAMES TOP they were legends in the game back in those days, and continue to be today.

 

Later that year, I had met most of the writers in the Top crew everybody in our neighborhood were writing too. The media had labeled our writing as vandalism they called it graffiti of the ghetto. They had written in a newspaper article that it was mostly Hispanic, African-American kids. Who were out of control defacing the city with graffiti? Nevertheless, the truth was that graffiti was not exclusive to the slopes of New York there were plenty of white kids in rich neighborhoods that was writing graffiti also.

 

One day we were all hanging out in the schoolyard tagging up the walls, we had just finish racking up spray paint (stealing). When this kid we knew that also was flying pigeons, back in them days with a friend of mine who also wrote “NONO” came into the park. We knew him as Don and his friend as Pnut they saw us tagging. Don ask little IK, that stands for (Crazy Ik aka Incredible Hulk) if he could take a tag Ik give him a can we said wow you tag too he said yeah I do. He took a tag that said Naco I was like get out of here that’s you I seen it around the neighborhood and in trains, but Dike whisper to me that he was not the original Naco, I really didn’t care back then, I was not a full-fledged writer, and I hardly knew the history. All I knew was that he was like one of us kids that wrote around the neighborhood. From that day forth he was coming almost every day to the park, we all hanged out there drinking beer and smoking weed. He became my handball partner we was unstoppable we beat everybody.

 

One morning we decided to go racking up paint (steal) the day before Sid and his cousin Ik had went to the double LL lay- up. He got my cousin and me all open up about it we told them if they would take us, I was saying to myself, wow this is what I always wanted to do, was to go hitting the trains. My cousin Ray and I who wrote Flin it’s short for (Flintstone) wanted to go too, cause Sid told us that they was going bombing again. I had one major problem I had a 7pm curfew I spent hours trying to figure out how was I going to able to go bombing, Sid told us that the best time to go was after 11pm that night. I came up with an excuse to tell my mom, I was going to the tell her that we were going to the movie theater in the city, we figure out that the last show ended at 11pm, so we had an hour to get back home form the movies. I knew that we needed more time it was not that hard for me because I had use the same excuse before that the train got delay. We also had to figure out where we were going to hang out. It was a long gap between hours. We left my house at 8pm it was 3-hour difference, we decided to hang out at the corner club where we always handed out to play pool. I must admit waiting to go bombing, was excruciating not to mention how scare I knew it was going to be.

 

Finally, the time had come to head to the lay-up. Leaving the pool hall we had to make sure none of my parent’s friends would see us, we took the long way to the lay-up. The night was very cold, the wind was blowing hard, and the branches of the trees were breaking off. When we finally had reach the block, Ik told Flin to hold his bag then he proceeded to climb up alone the track support beams, I couldn't believe that was the way to get up to the lay- up. I told them I was not going to climb up that beam, I said shit bro this is too dangerous, was there any other way in, I look up and saw that Ik was more than half way up the beam. Sid told me come on bro I will help you to climb up.

IN THE NEW LOTS YARD 1980

 

A few weeks had past Kel, Dondi and I painted our last whole car together on the BMT’s J line. A Dondi, Sono aka Duro and Welch aka Kel First, I think the Dondi he painted in this car is the best piece Dondi have ever done. Noc 167 was a big influence on Dondi back then.

 

During this period, I painted a few more whole cars on the BMT and IND’s subway lines in which I do not have photos of, I remember the pieces by name; I hope that one day I could find a photo of any of them. I am missing the following pieces and whole cars.

 

An unfinished T2B whole car the Kid 56, Duro on the 4 line, A Criminals Invading Again on the BMT J line, A Kist, Duro T2B whole car, on the IND’S CC line, A Prisoners Of Graffiti window down whole car on the BMT M line, also I painted a few more piece on the IRT’s 2 line, We’re Not Criminals on the IRT’s 5 line, A Min, Duro T2B whole car on the 3 line, A Duro, Crime 79 window down whole car on the BMT’s J line, A News Breaker, Kist on the BMT’s J line.

 

But most important to me is my last piece on the trains, it was a Duroc T2B whole car on the BMT’s LL line, funny how I started my first piece on the double LL line, and I did my last piece on the trains in the same double LL lay-up.

 

It was a cold night out and Deal was coming to Dondi house cause they had plan to go to Utica lay-up and paint a Top Two Bottom whole car, Dondi call me up and ask me if I wanted to go, I had 11 cans, so I told him yeah I was down to go. This was my first one-man (T2B), whole car. I was drunk that night and we had been smoking all day, Deal finally arrived at Dondi’s house. We then left, it was a full moon out and I was very eager to go bombing, it is a feeling that only writers would know about. This was my second trip to Utica lay-up. Everything that night felt as if I were moving in slow motion some kind of suspended animation, we had to climb up this metal gates then we had to go through this hole in the fence. The entrance of the tunnel was like two long blocks away. We headed along the catwalk, there are three lanes of tracks, and one of the lanes was lower than the other two. I had to jump down, and then we had to run down this long ass tunnel, because if the train was coming we would have been trap between the train and the wall, there was no clearance where we had to go to, or for sure, a train would have run us over.

 

We finally got to the spot where we painted before, last time we were there; we had stashed two ladders we had found. One ladder was small and the other ladder was long. Dondi and Deal took the small ladder, I was stuck with the big ladder, and it was so big that I had to rest the bottom of the ladder against the back wall, the top of the ladder rested on the top of the train. I had to be careful walking on this ladder, at the same time I had to balance myself, just to reach close enough to reach the train to start my piece. I would bet that when Deal read this story he is going to die laughing.

 

Here I was dangling in the air trying to paint my piece. I do not know how I ever manage to paint my piece that night but I did, anyway during one of my climbs the ladder slip off the top of the train. I went flying in the air; I landed in-between two of the steps of the ladder and almost broke my balls. This is not the first and last time I would fall in a tunnel. I will explain it later in more detail in my next journey to the underworld. I ended up breaking off a piece of the ladder to make it smaller for me to use, the ladder was still long but I did not have to be dangling in the air with the greatest of ease.

 

Style for me is a way of life, from the very beginning of our birth God gives each one of us our very own unique style. If you stop for a second and look back at your life, you will find that more than 75% of what make you a person is what we have learn through out our short lives on earth, in one form or another from people just like yourself.

 

I define my style as having no ends, I can do and go anywhere, and I can determine in which direction I choose to create or do. I refuse to put limits on my process of thinking or seeing the world as being just a physical environment of my body, so with my God given talent I allowed my mind to experience a new world beyond my limitations.

 

I started painting model train over 10 years ago, the energy came floating back to me as if I was still in the yard in the mist of rusted metal. I felt the same drive that I had many years ago, where getting up and taking king of the line, was my goal. As I sit here, I cannot help but to remember my three friends Dondi, Shy, and Kist, whom went with me on many adventures, yes there is an empty space in my heart. I go on today knowing that one day I would get to be with them again in heaven. We will once again take kings of the all lines. Transit Original Printers I also would like to thank “Sain TOP CIA” for his support and love and who I consider one my best friends

 

Since I was very young I had always been interested in the arts, drawing is one of the things I have done in my life where it felt very natural to me. In this place is where I could let my thought run free, I could create my own little world in which I could be in charge of my dreams. In this world I can choose my imaginary friends of characters, I can choose their personalities, the way they talk, walk, and even think. In this world, I had full control in how I want to be treated; my characters accept me for who I am with no strings attached. I would always spend hours sketching and drawing what I saw around me, and I was good at it too. In my first art class in school, I found a place to hide in; my teacher would complement me on my drawings. That encourages me to expand my imaginary characters. Even though my teacher had no idea of my secrets world, she helped me from my tormenters in school.

 

As I writing this I realize that in one way or another I have always been tormented in my life, it really never has stop, but I always had someone by my side, though I have known this person all my life, I was blind to the fact he has been with me every step of the way. He had created me, and at times I know I have fail him, but he has always love me unconditionally, and there have been times when I thought to myself, I suppose If I was him I don’t think I would have forgiven me as easy as he is to forgive all of us, but time and again he has. Not only has he forgiven me, but he has also taught me that before I can come to him for his forgiveness, I first had to forgive all the people that had hurt me in my life. All of a sudden, I realized how much sense it all makes now, how I could have not seen it before, how can I expect to be forgiven, when I have not forgiven my tormenters, it all so clear for me now. I most forgive first in order to ask for forgiveness. I know that by now you are wondering what this paragraph above has anything to do on how I started my story. When you get accuse of something horrible, and you know it is not true you can only go on with your life. I have forgiven them all. I am so great full that I have had a small part to play in an art movement that has grown from the streets of New York City to the world. I find it funny now that when this whole gallery thing first came about in the 80’s I chose to pass on it, because I love the secrecy of remaining unknown and only a few knew my identity. I believe so much in what I had learned from the Top Crew and in the traditions, they handed down to me. Ever since, I have carried the torch with respect and pride. I also saw that the gallery owners were very greedy and wanted to get rich of the artist hard work, I wanted no part of that. Years later Dondi told me that I was correct about them, he felt cheated. My dear friend Dondi learn this lesson the hard way, he told me he felt betrayed, by those who was helping him when he first was making his transition from metal to canvas. Back then I also felt I was too active and I knew I was wanted by the vandal squad, It got too hot for me, I had just been interview for a TV special, and Craig Castleman had published a book, and there I was on the front cover in the yard, showing the world how it was done.

 

Shy 147, who knew Hickey and ski, told me they had told him in so many words that if they ever caught me. Somebody was going to break my hands. Ok I was hot on the IRT’s 2’s and 5’s lines, so I laid low for a while, I had just stop going to the BMT’s J lines because of all the whole cars we had done on the line. Kist had gotten stop by two cops that had busted his cousin, they ask Kist to give me a message, and they told him that I had gotten away last week in the A yard by the skin of my ass. They told him how piss off they were that they miss me by mere seconds, because they saw all the damage I’ve have done to the insides, they had wiped my tag with their hand, and they found out that the ink was still fresh and wet. So I went back to BMT”S again. I was not ready for the art world, Dondi try to encourage me to paint, we even went to all of the abandoned buildings in our neighborhood, and we took all the wood panels that covered the windows, we decided to use them to paint on and use them as canvas. Years later we joke about it we had 30 panels in his basement, people looked at us like if we were crazy. You will read more about this as I go alone. Flash forward to 1998 I had just came home, that same week James Top got in contact with me and ask me if I would like to stop by cause he had organized an exhibition to honor Dondi, I had no idea that the movement was very much alive. I went to the show, when I got there this reporter stuck a microphone out and started asking me all these questions, I was very much surprise. I had stopped writing way back in 1985, but in an instant, I reverted to that Duro character again, you see because of my fame. I learn to stay away from cameras or let anyone take a photo of me, I would have to guess that because I did not let anybody get to close to me, people didn’t like me much, I guess they thought I had a chip on my shoulders. The truth is that because I been hurt too many times in my life, I let my Duro character live again, very much antisocial. I bring this on myself because I am the kind of person, that do not walk up to people and say hay how you doing or what is up. I do not mean to be disrespectful to anyone. This is how I learn to protect myself ever since I was a kid. I taught myself that I was not good enough to hang out with or talk to anyone. My mechanism reacts and kicks in to defense myself it pops up at times to protect my inner child. In other words, I have a hard time trusting anyone.

 

In the last 13 years, I started painting again; first because I had made a promise to Dondi years ago that I would one day show my artwork in galleries. In the beginning, a few friends were helpful, better yet; those who I thought was my friends had encouraged me to paint, it so happen they betrayed me just as they had done to my friend Dondi. The difference is that I always knew their intentions and motives; you see when a grown man shakes your hand. Then turn around and talk about you behind your back, in my eyes they are not man enough, or have no balls to tell it to my face, to me they are bitches. When you read this you will know who you are, one thing I have never been was a punk. I just had to put this in writing, stop making phone calls or going on the internet and step to me, when you see me, you see as little as I am I will fight you, if you beat me up that’s all good, but I will still walk away as a man. I am sorry for the interruption my friends. Anyway, below I have put together a range of some of my artwork, each one tells a story if you know what to look for, I hind some symbols that have a more intense meanings, then what the ordinary eyes is able to glance at first look. I added just a few of my work, I wish I can show my whole body of work, but publishing a book myself, I have to cut down on the cost. I have left out most of my old works, I intent to leave it unpublished for my family to manage when I am gone.

duro book coming soon...

 

can't imagine that's gonna be a good read

dude can barely string a sentence together...

still I bet it's gonna have interesting photos

[Schnitzel]

can't imagine that duro book is going to be a good read

dude can barely string a sentence together...

still I bet it's gonna have interesting photos

[dubblex]

[tappinkeys]

http://issuu.com/wordplaymagazine/docs/wordplay_8?mode=window&backgroundColor=%23222222

[STYLEISKING]

 

 

Les Éditions Eyrolles publient en cette fin d'année un énième ouvrage dédié au graffiti, intitulé "GRAFFITI - UNE HISTOIRE EN IMAGES".

 

 

Le plaisir pour les puristes de retrouver quelques pionniers, parmi eux les vrais, de ceux qui nous tiennent le plus à coeur : TAKI, CORNBREAD et ZLOTYKAMIEN.

[STYLEISKING]

"100 ARTISTES DU STREET ART"

Editions de La Martinière

240 pages

Format : 30x30 cm.

[Schnitzel]

bought the aos Vandals in motion book yesterday.

 

was damn good and I ended up reading it cover to cover

 

hugely recommended

[Schnitzel]

also The Destinys children, New york graffiti book is good but they've done bit's of weird Photoshopping on it which is strange in places.

 

things like Photoshopping their whole car into what appears to be a much more recent photograph.

 

not saying the wholecar wasn't real ( it is and they have progress shots of it being painted) but when you look at the pages you'll see what I mean. but as far as the graff goes it's fucking top notch!

[Media One]

new one from the otr guys

[..romero..]

books i own

graffiti LA twice

graffiti world twice (first copies got took in a raid)

style files volume whatever

freight train graffiti

---------------------------

 

books i want

 

graffiti new york orwhatever its called.

[STYLEISKING]

MONOKROME Book flip through

[..romero..]

^nice!

[STYLEISKING]

 

 

October 27, 2004: On this day, the New York City subway system

has now celebrated 100 years of service to the city. It's a

remarkable moment in NYC history. Congratulations to that! Over

those years and until now, not everyone is just a regular

passenger. There are those who are historians and they have an

appreciation for the subway and its history. That's why they have

things like the Transit Museum in Brooklyn. That's why they have

exhibits/seminars at the Transit Museum given by those very

people. That's why they preserve old cars, signs, and related

items. Some people take photos and preserve memories and

history that way. Some of those very people are involved in these

two subway photography books. The front covers of those books

are shown above. I want to thank all my people who worked on

these books. For now, the Volume Two cover only is shown.

 

In those first 100 years and since then, how many good quality,

color books were done to feature the NYC subway? How many

can you think of? Only a few that I would recommend and I have

quite a few subway books that are any good at all. Go to any

bookstore and do some comparisons. Most books contain black

& white photos and have more pages of text than photos. Or they

have a photo and don't even put a caption on the same page to

describe the photo. Why not? Or they have actual blank pages in

most of that book. You can't find a photo to put on each page?

We do better than that. There are books that take color photos and

publish them in black & white because they worry about the

production cost of a color book. That's not good. Too many

people with color photo books show only recent things within the

last few years.

Is that good enough for you? It's not for me. Do they have proper

captions, dates, and locations? I don't think so based on what I

find at the bookstores. How do so many authors, get these book

deals anyway?! ( Don't even get me started on that subject.... )

What happens if you can't find the book you really want?

 

You have a choice: Keep waiting for someone to do the book you

want or do it yourself. That's what we did. Now there are two

subway photo books done that feature all color photography and

done by long time experts in subway history and photography. All

done by New Yorkers who know their way around. It's long

overdue but it's finally here. Authentic subway books, by real

experts, with subway photography skills. It's not just some hype,

it's the truth. Let's just say it's done by "train-ed" professionals.

 

We have the system covered for you, like from Kings Highway to

Queens Plaza to Prince Street to Castle Hill Ave.

From Atlantic Ave. to Ocean Parkway.

From Baychester to Bay Parkway.

From Northern Blvd. to Southern Blvd. to Eastern Parkway to the

West Side of Manhattan.

From Van Cortland to Van Siclen to Van Wyck.

From Union St. to Union Square to Union Turnpike.

From The Bowery to 40 st.- Lowery.

From Hunts Point to Hunters Point to Willets Point.

We make all stops throughout the system the way you want it.

 

It's a combination of revisting years you grew up in and learning

about what you missed. It's really also a tribute project to one of

the photographers who inspired many others. Most people enjoy

nostalgic memories from their youth I think. Until you figure out a

way to build that time machine to visit those days again, you have

to rely on films or photography to take you there. In the meanwhile,

if you want to return to those days or learn about what happened,

I know you'll enjoy both books, for now you can have Volume #1.

 

Note the sample page photos from each book on the tabs on the

left. ( Please note: Volume TWO is not printed yet or available for

purchase. ) Any comments you want to make about the books or

NY films might find their way to those areas. The "Film Reviews"

area will also serve as a place to mention NY based films that

feature the NY subways. Since Volume One has a movie review

list, there are other films made prior to 1970 that will be mentioned

based on our knowledge and any word from you the customer.

It's all up to you, the customer, to have a say about the next books

we do. At the rate the books are selling and the feedback, that will

determine what books we can do next. There's no one else in any

other subway book telling you things like that. You know what,

they're not us though.

 

Please tell your subway friends about this website and the books.

My team is doing that also. We will update this page with any latest

news on the each Volume and do the feedback from your

comments. Thanks for your interest, you won't be disappointed.

 

What we will feature is: Some 60's, Certainly 70's, Especially 80's,

and not much 90's. No current events please.

When it comes to enjoying subways, for me it's out with the new

and in with the old. The new cars now are impressive in some

ways but we like the older cars. That's what we focus on.

 

I just want to enjoy the old days and the old ways - always...

If you are like that also, I suggest you get "on board" with us.

 

If you want hardcore, big time, nostalgic New York subway

memories from the years we cover, then you want:

MAKING ALL STOPS - Volume One - All the grit, that we can fit...

 

We always keep it rail...

 

O.S. Funk

 

 

Copyrighted in 2004. First printed in the United States of America

in 2009. All rights reserved. No part of any book or this website's

text or photos may be reproduced, transmitted," borrowed", or

stolen in any form without written permission by the author - and

this is not gonna happen.

 

B.M.T. - Books Made Thoroughly

I.N.D. - It's Nicely Done

I.R.T. - It's Really True

N.Y.C.T.A. - Now's Your Chance To Act

 

History in the making - Making All Stops!

 

IF YOU SEE SOMETHING IN THE BOOK YOU LIKE,

THEN PLEASE SAY SOMETHING TO YOUR FRIENDS ABOUT US...