In my senior year at pa I took a poetry class to ease some tension. While exploring deep in my drive, I found the a small collection of the loosely formulated poems that I submitted to Eng 505. Without any alterations…
Night In Boston
From my table, the night’s stained with light,
glare, that suppresses the eye.
The Charles wants to flow onward,
away from us and out to sea.
Continue reading “Poetry”
I’ve had plenty of people ask where they are, these waves. How they might find them, when they occur, or if they’re easily accessible. If we’re friends, I might show you someday, one, or maybe two of those water hills which I’ve discovered for myself. But for anyone else, I’ll point our fingers towards the coastline and mutter something like ‘they’re out that way.’ Because some secrets are worth keeping.
“I was born at the end of an era; when film was ending, and digital transformed itself into the standard media for how people took pictures and shared stories. My mother had this old nikon camera that I remember using when I was a young kid on trips up the coast. Trodding through neglected cottages, wild blueberry plains, and forgotten civil war forts with it around my neck, I considered myself an explorer charting newfound territories around Maine’s most privatized inlets and neglected infrastructure.
Continue reading “Events before places”
Had ourselves a a few too many runs at Antelope Island outside of Salt Lake City last month. So much fun and uncomfortably bright and windy in the desert — who knew? Erin offered me a Vogue worthy pose showing off some edgy skateboard style. Im starting to see Ventura in the background instead of Utah.
Continue reading “Skateboarding Antelope Island”
New York City is interesting in the same way that an assortment of stylish, however, mismatched socks is. You like so many of them individually, but you can’t just reach in and pull out a pair. You are at odds. Now, I’m not saying you there aren’t days when I could care less about wether my right foot is dark grey and my right, stark green, kind of like the south wall in my apartment, but I’m just entertaining the idea that sometimes I want things (my feet in this analogy) to look – and feel – a certain way. And so in New York, the situation can be similar to both a collection of gold-toe sock wearing, business seeking bunch like many old Andover dorm mates, (Quamme was all business — who cares for comfort anyways) and also a pair of bicycling Santa Claus socks that I had been given for Christmas one year (not really applicable everyday). You can start to envision the disorder.
New York is fun. I had a ball exploring all the food markets– just one single block revealed a more diverse palette of options than entire towns that I have lived in. It can be a place where incredible things happen, which could be refrained as tacos are always in season. I don’t envision it being a place where I could become complacent. For now, its an interesting collective of ideas. I would be able to do a lot of art in a big city, and might actually sell it for what I think it’s worth. I would predict many late nights in an odd apartment. More tacos. More Chinese food. Much more dim sum. More studios where everyone is gripped for real estate. More long runs. More skateboard commuting. More wacky finds at flea markets. More of a lot of great things.
Classic Flight of the Conchords… If you haven’t seen it. Caught on a flyer in the city.
Around two years ago, I found a really sweet piece of walnut. It was someones off-cut, clear as day, being weirdly thin and not quite rectilinear. The lighter edge will tell you that this piece has a splash of outer layer wood contrasting the dark heartwood grain. I was able to sketch a fin on this gold piece of scrap, create a diagonal cut, and insert my own walnut and oak endgrain checker pattern. The 21 1/2 squares are blocked by thin maple stringers, clamped between the walnut. Great project, but only time will tell if this fin ever sees time in the ocean. For now its a cool show piece.