I built a flat bar in the studio today. It didn't take very long and doesn't use any hardware. In theory it is possible to skate it. It's going to happen.

Good skateboarders to me aren't athletes. They don't practice, they are simply very good at what they do- and they always will be. What they do is more in the realm of mysticism. They bend probability and change mathematical odds because of their perception and experience. If you don't know what I'm talking consider this video of Toy Machine's Billie Marks.

huckster!

The thing I don't like about facebook/online journaling is that you are forced to soften the edges of your posts. You can't be specific about what's really going on in your life because the person you may be venting about might read what you write. You might actually not want them to do that. Consequently I get a few posts from my friends on facebook that are so vague and emotional it's laughable. Don't get me wrong- I feel bad for anyone who is feeling bad. Venting can be useful and necessary- it's just, I often read things that I would write to myself and wonder what was all the bother about? The force was there, but all gone at the same time. Even this post upon review will be dashed in the emotional sense. (I think for some reason this feeds back into my tirades about sentiment).

This photo (by the way) is the best manual pad ever built. Ever. It is for skateboarding only. After we are done using it I'm going to make it into a painting for a fundraiser for the Pantages. Yup. Also people should take note the fundraiser for the Pantages is giving %50 back to contributers of original works. You get fifty back? Yep. I think so. Is that right? That's like having a gallery show if it's true... Anyway for skateboarding it's the best thing built (using three screws and scrap woods).

I fell hard skating the ramp. It was bad. Jeremy and Jeff went outside so I was thankfully alone. I hit my hand and my unmentionables- the ones that aren't the balls. At first I just laid there and I thought I might be hamming it up for myself. The first rush of pain sprinkled over me and I immediately got up to inspect my numb hand. As I poked around my swelling palm looking for broken bones I felt a loss of hearing, sweat wicking off my skin, my mouth dried. As the pain in my abdomen grew a partial loss of vision and dizziness. It was like dope. For real. At one point when I picked something up and decided I was going to be okay- no broken bones and I remained conscious I thought, 'people pay good money for this feeling.'

gawwwwwd!

I hate beer culture and all seasonal beers. 100%.

For a while I was into riding bicycles. It was all I thought about. Mainly because I was trying to stop drinking as much (or ride a bike and not get a dui) and get a respectable life under my feet. I don't know if that whole plan failed or not but I did stop drinking in the obsessive and desperate table-for-one way. Bikes took over my life and I would get a new one (that I could fix up) every two to three months.... they became less of a present tense hobby and more of a nest egg.... or a lifestyle I could see myself living with that bike. It's like each bike was this future I could see myself in- I'd buy it, clean it up and then live there in my ideal future. Eventually the horrors of reality set in and you have twelve bikes in your living room. Oh well.

I do hate saying this but I get super bummed with the crowd falling in with what I do. I don't like picking up bikes and riding and then everyone jumps in all enthusiastically and wants to talk about it. It's bad- that mechanism that gives me the 'oh, it's all overrun with hipsters, oh!' tirade.

I've been walking a lot lately. Everyone should get into it.

grrr..... mmmmm

I wanted to make it a mean spirited blog.... I'd find people on the street eating spaghetti and mustard sandwiches and write a bunch of funny things about them- post their photo.... but it's a small town. You get the drift. I've also considered writing about my paintings and my process, but whenever I write anything about painting or art it has this really short life.

I'm not sure why I don't like sentiment or whimsey. It seems dangerous, potentially, embarrassing, and super temporary. I don't like the word java... I'm hating coffee culture more and more. Most days I work in public and go to the easiest source of free internet the 'local guy' coffee shop. My reactions make me angry with myself. People chatter, they order the weirdest drinks with such connoisseurship. They talk over perfectly good music while holding text books. I never flirt with saying anything but every once and a while I think to myself ,'get a hold of yourself man, your in public for chris sake!'.

blag

man I hate modest mouse (the band)! I'm not sure why other than my one time brush with the semi famous drummer. He took me and a few people out to dinner (? it was pretty late). I think he was trying to win the affections of my lady friend asking her to punch him in the face. She didn't.

Oh yeah and there is that rape surrounding the band's front man. I totally forgot all about that.

I'm going to the studio today. I'm hoping to not skate the ramp too much and not hurt myself. OH and I have to do the cookie run.... and turn in my funding grant to tacoma today by five.... grrr. Hoping to get five thousand dullers. Nobody gets full funding though.