6.23.2012

Secret to a good life: Knowing when you're through.


Guess all my friends are doomed to live hard lives. 




I need to listen to more ska-punk prior to skating. I ride my bike over to the park, so if I can find a small boom box to strap to the handbars I could really get this thing amped. 

(Fort the record, the best boom box skating I've ever done was to C&C music factory, courtesy of Rotwag.)

The latest project is vert skating this monster:


Mostly I stick to the street and the channel on the left. My vert skills are finally starting to emerge. I'm working on popping out of 8' bowl, and ever so slowly working my way up to the coping. I'll post video at some point.

There was a contest at the park this AM, so my usual morning skate was cut a little short. But, the upside was that the presence of other skaters gets me to throw down. I hate physical competition, but tend to excel when it is presented to me. I usually charge the bowl pretty hard, but this morning I was going at it.

Next Up: Heather and I are rolling out to Montana, via Wyoming, tomorrow. We'll be gone for two weeks, backpacking, camping and seeing the family. Don't die while I'm away, because I'd hate to miss it!

//H

6.19.2012

Obi, once he finishes his doctorate




I have hopes it will be something like that. 

//H


I'm hoping Rotwag will weigh in, but there is a part of me these days that looks for "good" art to enliven (or humanize) shared spaces. Formal or informal, I'm asking art to elicit a positive response in the viewer / participant. 

(Off topic, it's pretty easy to elicit a negative emotional response. We're passed the days when pooping on a gallery threshold is satisfying in any meaningful way.)

Anyhow. Enlivening shared spaces. 

The Carbondale skatepark abuts a set of new tennis courts. Tattooed gutter punks and over-40, overweight citizens of Dog Town are separated from attractive tennis players in white shorts and skirts by a mere 12' chain link fence. No joke. On one side kids are shouting, "Fuck yeah!" and smacking their boards on the ramps when you land a trick. I'm not sure what tennis players shout to show their approval. 

The other weekend I broke two boards the same day, trying to land a nose slide down the mini-hubba. With broken decks to spare, I climbed to the top of the fence and wired my broken deck to the skatepark side of the fence. Like a concrete wall hit with graffiti, the inhuman, chainlink border was transformed into a canvas.

Hence my joy when I headed over to this park the other day for my morning skate only to find a second deck wired to the fence. Suddenly it was participatory. There was a viewer and they "got" it. 

Which is a long way to say I'm proud of wiring trash to a chain link fence, but there you have it. I have two more broken decks in the trunk and they are going up tomorrow. 

//H 


Halloween, check

Before the shave: 


In  retrospect, I should have been leaning back, not forward, and wearing a light colored shirt, so that the beard would stand out. 

But alas, to Heather's dismay, I've shaved. 

//H