Friday, July 18, 2014

Stripes and Stripes Forever

9'2 Bronson for my old buddy, Mark.

Mark and I met in 1985 and, like most kids, we explored the poles of the teenage experience to define our own identities--we were skaters, slackers, authority challengers, artists. We were writers, scholars, philosophers, dudes who flirted with each others' sisters. We were off-the-gridders, dirt bags, pretty boys, climbers, surfers, journalists, lady-crazed Jewbags, monks, walkers, bikers, boaters, shut-ins, fly fishermen, mountain towners, club kids, river guides, musicians.
Interestingly, the middle ground we've reached thirty years later, each on our separate corners of the continent, looks a lot like the suburbs.
Go figure.
True friends teach us about ourselves. Mark showed me, in seventh grade, the difference between creating and being creative. Anybody can make something, but it takes something truly special to live in the world between stuff that exists and stuff that could exist.
I've learned to visit this space, but Mark has always inhabited it.
You can check out his design/build studio HERE.
If you shred Maine waters, be on the lookout for Mark and his new sled, with not-quite-black and white, not-quite horizontal (by design!) lamination striping by Tony Mikus, a creative force of his own in Santa Cruz.

Recommended Pairing: this Bronson pairs best with a lukewarm Heineken in a can, poached from your folk's fridge on a warm summer night. Best when split between two underage drinkers in a tree fort.


The Sophisticated Groveler said...

Love your blog. Short and funny-as-hell (unlike me). At 1st glance I thought, "Snoopy meets the linguine making machine." As I mistook the wooden tailblock for Snoopy poo. At 2nd glance it's pure surfable art. My hat tips to Mr. Mikus. This board is more than "Head High and Glassy," it's "High Gloss and Sassy!"...(oooh that could be your new blogspot...chuh ching, so long as I get the cred).

Anonymous said...

Beautiful shape. The outline reminds me of a Takayama I surfed forever, then passed on to my girlfriend. Then she passed it on to her new boyfriend. Wish I had one of them back now (hint: it's not the girlfriend).