recently I've been delving a little deeper into jazz than usual thanks to Drift editor Joe Conway putting me on to do a jazz inspired blog for the magazine. funny how one things leads to another and connections apear out of the ether when you least expect it.
my good friend Snake and I have been talking about jazz and his experience is quite broader than mine. Snake just turned me on to saxophonist Pharoah Sanders. I feel like I need to take some time aside to get into his stuff -to listen carefully and see what I can hear. for some reason I tend to like the stuff that's a bit harder to listen too. not sure why -perhaps it's some sort of idea that non-conformity is cool. I'm brain washed by the American individualism.
I’m off completely. been off for two weeks now since Moe arrived. and I finally realized that the pace of my life has forever changed. the rhythm and meter are slower now. the change was like an Art Blakey solo, fast and furious. it’s too soon yet to find my new rhythm. we gotta figure it out as a family. and eventually it will settle and the beat will roll like it did before, only slower.
it’s like surfing. for me progression isn’t only learning a solid cutback, but actually slowing down on the wave in order to see where I’m going. so many times I see a hump, turn and paddle into it, only to race down the line like a scalded dog (thank god people don’t scald dogs any more). but really progression for me now is to be able to take off and look down the line, see what’s transpiring in front of me so that I can flow with it. bottom turn to highline run to beat the section? or maybe bottom turn to snap off the top? and then when the section comes do I bottom turn, ass low around it, or float over it?
the guys that make surfing look easy are the ones that have slowed it down. not their speed but their vision. they can see the wave in front of them and are confident enough in their skills to know that they can generate speed at will or bury the rail for a smooth mid face turn.
I must change my rhythm and meter. slowing down is good because it is the present that we live in. why rush it thinking about the next swell, next board, next diaper change, next kid. baby steps baby.
"A human being is part of the whole called by us universe ... We experience ourselves, our thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest. A kind of optical delusion of consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us."Albert Einstein
I would take this idea into a smaller arena in the sense of how we think of ourselves in terms of body and mind. our culture tends to see body and mind as two separate forms, dependent on each other only for the basics of oxygenated blood flow. but is this really so? can our mind function at its peak analytics if our bodies too are not at their peak?
there's no Utopian movement. there will be no critical mass towards a humanizing of our race. there can be however individual and independent change. each and everyone can choose how to move through the space and time in which he finds himself. I am only now learning that and only daily work will allow me to discover more.
I squandered my twenties in drink and inaction, actions that were a cause or perhaps caused, my dysthimic downs. and it is only in the last few months that I am beginning to see what is possible. I am not referring to social achievements or feats of strength. I am referring to a refining of my own skills and abilities. whether it be striking keys or riding waves or even riding my bike to work. the more I realize the interconnectedness within me and with our greater ecosystem the more I reduce the friction with which I move through time and space.
ran 5 of 6 days since monday for a total of 18 miles. cycled every day. cooked every day. it's good to move. it's good to use my faculties and guts to enrich the days. for this I give thanks.
It’s Monday and the leaves are flaming as the cold dark mornings grow longer and longer. I wished I’d worn ear protection on the bike commute today as my ears rang through the first half hour of work. Did I say work? It’s all I can do to focus on anything else besides surfing. Lately I’ve been reading about Richard Kenvin. Kenvin is not well known outside of California but his reputation is held in high regard inasmuch as I can tell. He is the man behind the film project titled Hydrodynamica – a historical look into the genius and influence of Bob Simmons. Simmons drowned while surfing at the age of 35. It’s a wonder how things may have been different if it weren’t for Simmons early demise.
(Kenvin, twin keeled in New York on the same weekend that I surfed NY sandbars [franco photo taken from the Hydrodynamica blog])
Last weekend while in New York I was lucky to get to ride a 5’11” Rich Pavel keel fish. The board had the traditional marine ply wood keel fins set parallel to the stringer with no cant or toe. I had never ridden a board that short nor with that fin set-up. The waves were overhead, steep and fast and breaking over a shallow sandbar. I was intimidated and perhaps suffering from a bit of “performance anxiety” as Mick coined it. However, after a few failed attempts I managed to make a wave or two and really feel what the design has been so famous for. Speed. The feeling of controlled speed was like nothing I’d ever felt before on any other surfboard. It’s taken a week for those few rides to settle into my consciousness. A week where I had a chance to surf my entire quiver from the bonzer in perfect eight foot faces, then the green machine modern fish in head high lefts, and finally the 9’6” log in windy knee high slop. Although all of my sessions this past week were great, none quite compared to the Pavel fish session.
So I’ve turned to researching the twin keeled, wide tailed, boards and their exponents. I have always tended to be antisocial in my lifestyle choices. Sometimes out of pure narcissism and other times out of passion and a real interest. I have never been interested in the technical aspects of board sports but rather in the fluidity and grace that is achieved by masters like Tudor and Curran, or Vallely and Gonz. But it seems that in the twin keel Simmons and Lis inspired craft I may have found what I was looking for in terms of speed, fluidity and fit.
I’m fascinated by how we as animals can use tools to move within our environment. Surfing is really as simple as it gets when it comes to being part of the energy that moves the world. We use our energy and intuition to catch waves and then glide down their faces for what is really a trifle in the timeline of our lives. And yet, for some, this trifling moment becomes a beacon towards which our lives are directed. And getting to that light at the end of the darkness is a series of cycles of wind, tide, and seasons, of paddling out and into waves, of morning rituals and checking the weather. The cyclical patterns of a lifelong surfer are not unlike those of any other organism moving through the stages of life. And to find that tool that perfectly fits with your own personal style, your movements, is to shortcut straight to the foothills of the mountain of enlightenment. In these times of turmoil and war I feel sometimes shallow for obsessing with surfing. Mostly however, I feel fortunate to be passionate about life and nature and I am grateful to be stationed in a life that allows me this simplest and most giving of pursuits.
got to the reef at sunrise swell looked like still to come one guy out before me on a slug I slipped into black rubber grabbed the green machine ran down the dune trail tall grass grabbing arms and legs quick paddle out with the tide almost peaking -turn and burn on the first weave my way down the face there's a little juice to it drifty too -paddlin back towards the point left of the boils forty five minutes of fishin fun back up the trail to grab five fins swell still building period elongating with the faces slug drops in on my paddle back makes the bottom turn, me wide on the shoulder watching the face is seven or eight feet perfect, reeling, peeling the sun now over the horizon I get washed in by a set walk around and paddle back out rental board crews surveying their chances -don't go I think I get hammered on the inside bar two hours in, shoulders and back are beat another big one swings wide I'm on the right side of the boil turn, stroke, look down at the blue bottom sand startin to make her murk down the line stand up and go, five fins push water no need to pump
still building
closing out now
go to work
buzzing now summertime swells with juice are rare now to forget focus on making a living
moments of clarity in surf are fleeting redeeming fulfilling
Sat: rode two hours of single track. Saw one guy out. Shouldered the rigid single up a few and down a few. Felt the flow starting to come back like Obe One. Spinning away through the sections -like surfing but more technical and much longer rides. It's been a long time since I rode the bike just for fun and not to get somewheres. Riding bikes is simple clean livin.
Sun: demo'ed half the kitchen. Plaster beneath the old ugly paneling seems OK. Gonna put up bead board and cabinets and hood range this week. Then get the plumber out to move the sink over and do the other side. New kitchen. Oh, B and I hafta build the form molds for our concrete counter tops.
Surfed two plus hours with Blacks today. Wind's been outta the North since last night and gusting to over 45 clicks keeping the 3 meter swell down to a minimum. Hard taking off with the stinging spray making for practically blind take offs, then bottom turn round the algae covered rock sticking out the water and tuck into the shoulder. Blacks got a covered one on his new Neilson quadster. I just stayed low and tried not to give the wind a reason to pick up my board mid-turn and slam it into me. All in all a great session at a classic left with victory at sea conditions and wind that kept even the dog walkers home.
Here's photos of the new Neilson's that arrived this week after being stuck at customs like criminals without a trial. The white is Blacks new small kine wave machine. Dims: 6'4" by 21 - EPS/Epoxy with Futures vector quads. Very fast and heaps 'o fun. New Yeller is Bonzer in Biofoam at 6'6" and 20.5". Still unridden. Peta favours the quad but preffers spring sun warming.
Start the new job tomorrow.
Here's a little Wes Montogomery to close off the evening. Iration time now.
It’s been a little while since I felt like writing anything. Seems like the last few have been bleak and sad but today is sunny and that helps a bit. It’s finally above zer0 for a change. Last weekend was long and needed. I surfed on Friday, Saturday and Sunday –with each day getting smaller and less impressive. On Monday I went snowboarding on an icy hill about an hour and a half drive into the valley, not too far from the Bay of Fundy, the place with the biggest tidal fluctuations on earth.
On Sunday I surfed with Blacks and the Doctor. It was probably knee to thigh high and choppy with below freezing air temps. The Doctor loaned me his 9’6” displacement hull – it’s a popout and quite light for its size. On the third wave I went for I pearled, the wind caught the board and smacked me on the side of the face almost breaking my schnoz. When I sat up on the board I ran my mitt under my nose and there was a bit of blood but no gushing. Luckily the cold water kept the swelling down and generally numbed my face for the rest of the session. I enjoyed a few little choppers in a parallel stance right smack dab in the middle of the big log.
In between sneaking a cigarette now and again while swilling a beer I’ve managed to sign myself up for the Blue Nose half marathon here in Halifax on May 18th. I’ve never been much of a runner but I do enjoy the focus and serenity that running can provide to my ruminating gray matter. The other side effect of the new training regimen is that my wetsuit will probably fit better in the end and I’ll have a little more power in my stroke when paddling into waves. Even better the girls in the office are in on the run so it’ll be a good time.
Todays music: Fela Kuti
Part 2
One of my best and oldest bredjren got me into Fela. He used to play Fela -like to make you mad. But eventually the incessant rhythmic sway of the music was ingrained into me like genes. Now I just groove like tire tracks on the sand. T-Bone and I had some crazy times -skipping school to surf shitty beach break and streak in front of the air force base, or ride fixed from bar to bar in PDX, from Southeast to Northeast and downtown across the Steel and back, T-Bone running into parked cars and I trying to light a cigarette while spinning on the fix and no hands and balance due to two too many PBR's who knows where I can’t recall now, never could. And I remember T and I bombing the steepest hill in Discovery Bay, Jamdown on a barrowed razor scooter, barefoot, white rum pulsing in our veins and perhaps a spliff or two in. We later left that razor in the back of some ex-plantation relative’s pick up truck only to pay for it for the next year in tongue lashings from little miss southern bell my daddy bought me that (so you could ride it on the mean streets of Jamaica? Does yer daddy want you dead? You should thank me for losing the goddamned scooter!), T long gone back to NC or Egypt or Holland or cycling through Italy before his bike got stolen from a train and the trip cut short. We don't see each other much these days but I know soon well get together again and raise hell like can only be done with friends for whom words are unnecessary. Thanks T-Bone for the inspiration and glad you didn’t get killed in the basement bar in Greece when the bearded one had to leave you in fear of his own safety, and over buying a drink? Reminds me how our lives are simple and we gots to live them in full or expire debased and debunked. Goodnight and mahalos and yun no sen, me no come.
Been thinking about other times, sadness and cold. Been thinking about sad people too. Chester Himes, Chet Baker, Kerouac, Bukowski. There’s more I’m sure. Been thinking about the cold too. It’s cold where I live. Last night it snowed about four or five inches. Snow is strange to me still. I like how it feels under the bike tires on the morning commute. But I don’t like the way my fingertips burn with cold until I get to my desk and pound on the keys a bit. It’s sadder when it’s cold. My footprint is huge when it’s cold –heating, food comes from far, heating some more. I shovel the beautiful snow off the sidewalk in front of my post explosion home, making sure that perfect lines are drawn from the sidewalk to the driveway. I dig out the car even though it won’t move for a few more days. And it’s nice, snow, all white and pretty. But in a day or two it’ll be yellow and dirty and icy and sad. In other times people were sad in different ways, different fears and apprehensions. During Baker’s times there were big wars and depressions and hatred. During our times there’s warmings and terror and obesity and other greater and lesser wars, against drugs, thugs, bugs and even plants. Can you believe we have open all out wars against plants? Poor coca and ganja, growing quietly on hillsides, not expecting to be chemically bombed from above or cut down and burned like genocide. Still sadness is good I suppose. Sadness brings a melancholy creativity out of some like Baker. Here we see Baker being blue, an old term perhaps but meaningful nonetheless. It’s easier to be sad than grateful. But there’s a time for sadness too and there is a time for everything. Things just are innit? I mean we could wish them to be different, strive for them to be different, but a thing is just a thing and nothing more.
I surfed some clean and fast overhead waves yesterday at a special right hander. There were more than a few guys out, and a gal too sitting deep and charging the sets, but the vibe was good. I got a few solid ones and a couple of good turns. It was nice to take advantage of the first day of daylights savings for the evening session. Although being that it was a Sunday and the time change is arbitrary I guess that last comment really didn’t make much sense eh?
-got out at first light this morning too. Sucks sliding into a cold wetsuit when it’s minus 8 C. and the north wind is blowing flurries like summer dandelions. The waves were a bit small and the incoming tide was taking a bit of strength out of them. Still, I got some good ‘uns going left at a wedgy rocky bottom joint. But it’s back to work now and the wave analysis models are looking bleak for the next few days so I’m gonna do some research on Jim Hall. Below is nice clip of Sonny Rollins featuring Jim Hall. If I could only surf half as well as Jim can play guitar –oh man.
feeling lucky. we're going to see Kid Koala tomorrow night. he's a classically trained turntablist bringing jazz and ting to the masses. check out this clip from a show in mexico city.
Keith Jarret is known for being difficult. he abhors any sort of noise during his performances -he once walked out of a show in Paris because someone in the crowd would not stop coughing. my friend and Jazz Advisor the Good Doctor introduced me to Jarret and he's quickly becoming one of my favorite artists.
what is life but passion? Jarret would know. peep the clip below taken from a show in Italy the year before I was born.
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