8 August 2016
Meditations on the
360° Kickflip
A boomerang is not a boomerang because it is thrown once and
returns to the thrower. A boomerang is a boomerang because anytime that it is
thrown, it is returned to the thrower. To hold is to release, to possess is to
let it go. It’s all in the flick. It’s all in the flick. It’s all in the flick.
I spot my landing and skate spot, make sure it is free of
debris, try to make sure that distractions around me are kept at a minimum. I
tell myself that I will fall, that I will scrape knees and elbows, and that it’s
part of the process. Love the ankle twists. Love the sprained elbows and sore
hips. Wear a helmet and protect your noggin. Look at road rash as though it is
just pavement and concrete giving you free tattoos; they tell a story of your
likes and dislikes through etchings in your skin. Here is the 5-0 I messed up
on before I knew how to 5-0. Here is the pebble I hit that sent me flying, here
is the time I decided to “Send it one more time!” at the suggestion of a friend
against my better judgment. I scoop my back foot and try to find my balance,
thinking as though I were on two wheels the whole time I am jumping over my
board. Even as the board is spinning below me, I try to find a way to level
myself and throw the board with patience. A boomerang is not a boomerang
because it is released and comes back once. A boomerang is a boomerang because
to hold it is to release it, and because every time it is thrown it returns to
the thrower. Boomerang, boomerang, boomerang. Forgot the flick, skinned the knee,
dust it off and laugh. Try again, throw it higher, throw it farther, throw with
patience. Don’t forget the flick.
I know that my best work is reflective of my work on the
fundamentals. Do your core work and stretch in the morning; get a warm up in
and eat your quinoa and vegetables. Go to bed at night and sleep. Wake up in
the morning ready to go, and remember why you started. Enjoy the ride and love
every minute. Push it. Scare yourself.
Catch it with the front foot first as it comes around. Get
your back foot back on the board. Ride away and make it look easy.
Skatepark ramps are my mini mountains // halfpipes carve out
twin peaks.
On the best days I float // on the worst days I scar
Graffiti on the walls and banks tag the park in a form of
writing that is unique and comes from the heart. This is a form of writing
whose essential function is not to favor enslaving power (Derrida on
Levi-Strauss in Grammatology, 139),
but to uncover, to excavate and to decorate. Flip tricks, when caught, make music sound
better and the writing on the walls come to life.
