Long Slow Surf: Swimming

One month into a one month course on swimming this much I know, I am a three stroke, same side breather. Awesome. I also know I am taking another month of lessons but we’ll get to that in a minute.

When I started writing about this adventure I mentioned my physical therapist’s ‘suggestion’ that I get a kick board to use during laps. He didn’t elaborate on the value of using a kick board and I didn’t ask what they might be. Rather, I dismissed the whole idea as boring (read: not the ‘suggestion’ I wanted to hear) and promptly forgot about it. Then the lessons started. Night one of my first round of swimming lessons began with, you guessed it, an introduction to the kick board and it’s uses in swimming practice. Perfect.

Turns out, that amongst other things the kick board when used during laps is a great way to work on ‘the core’ muscle groups. My core is awful. Always has been, actually, to be fair it is much improved thanks to my Muay Thai workouts but still…weak. So, she (my swim instructor), had me at core. Ever used a kick board during laps? It is a lot of work and not a lot of movement. In fact, if you’re not conscious of your kicks you will likely be moving backward. Awesome. In the days after lessons started and practicing began in earnest it was not lost on me how much further along my core and thus my swimming would be if I had taken the DIRECTION of starting with a kick board back in July. Whoops.

Got my first board!!!! Kick board, anyway. My ‘lazy’ swimming practices have been replaced in the last month with some measure of discipline. I bought my very own kick board, worked out my personal comfort regarding side breathing and learned my stroke count. These basic understandings of swimming and swimming practices have altered my time spent in the pool, dramatically. Laps are switched off between kick boarding and free style. Hell, lap lengths have gone from swimming the width of the pool to swimming the length. All that in four weeks.

The last month spent in lessons not only served to re-instill fundamental swimming practices for me but also brought to the forefront a few elements of this ‘surfing adventure’ that will need to be engaged sooner rather than later. I say surfing because that is the ‘end game’ but I am fully aware that the specific elements that I am engaging today are about swimming, what’s at hand are equipment, suits, weather and still more training.

Equipment

Not only did this one month of swim lessons warrant the purchasing of a kick board but also in short order my first set of goggles. These buys may seem innocuous enough but as it happens equipment purchases get pretty complicated pretty quickly. Goggles: The pair I have are Swedish style and ideal for the pool. They’re not going to cut it in open water. Just google ‘open water swimming goggles’ the 4 billion blogs, lists, rankings and reviews that comes up is staggering. And, that’s just goggles! My next purchase will likely not be goggle related at all as I already know that I need a swim cap. A swim cap! (<–Ew.) Google that shit, too. Geez-a-loo.

The point above is this, I will be negotiating a myriad of equipment purchases from open water goggles to wet suits to bigger boards in fairly short order and the task is daunting.

Suits

Swimming suits should probably come under equipment but they don’t, not really. Not yet. For now, it’s like this, there is nothing particularly functional about any of the fashionable suits I own while doing laps. NOT EVEN the one piece. As a result, sport suits have just hit my radar  and present their own path to be negotiated. Swim suits lead directly to water wear in general, it’s not all about ‘suits,’ people. These all lead to wet suits…

Weather

Wet suits lead to weather. It is October. October begs the question, are you really going to start open water swimming in the winter?????? It is possible here in the South lands but is it a good idea? I’m thinking not. I’m thinking open water swimming is on delay until the spring. Maybe by then I will have figured out which goggles and which wet suit to wear! Between now and then, I think (<–at this moment) I’m staying in the pool.

The Next Right Step

October brings with it another month of lessons. This months lessons are not meant to focus on swimming basics, well…not swimming pool basics. I have figured out through a ton of reading that there are a couple of open water basic skills that I will need to work on in a pool. First among them, dolphin diving. Second, sighting. To that end, I have signed up for another month with directions. After that, I have located a local pool that offers several hours of lane use day or night through out the week, year round. I will be getting a pass there to continue working on swimming skills during the late Fall and Winter.

Not to worry though, the ocean and boards are in my immediate future. I have resolved to spend more time paddle boarding in the coming months. If you have not paddle boarded, do. For me there is a tranquility in paddle boarding that I find in fairly short order upon paddling out. So much so that it begs the question, why do I wait so long between paddling days? Why?

The Art of Surfing: Paintings & Prints

One of the cool things about taking an interest in surfing is that the activity itself comes with an entire culture built around it, ranging from a huge pro-am athletic component to niche equipment builders, clothing, language, spirituality and everything in between. For a nerd like me that leaves a ton of room to explore! As stated in an earlier post books got me to surfing but they may not be the best art the culture has to offer…

Hands down, one of the coolest elements of surf culture that I have encountered thus far is the art work. For the purposes of this post, I will narrow the “art” I have found to paintings or prints, specifically. Surf photography is a world unto itself, as is board designs, surf sculptures and so on I’m not dismissing those by any means I’m just taking this adventure very slow.

Drew Brophy

Disclaimer: I have no skills as an artist or as an art critic. I am not educated in the vernacular or the methodology and I have no plans to be. Accordingly, the pieces posted on here are here because I dig them, period. That said, the first prints that caught my attention (and made me smile) were the ones I encountered by Drew Brophy. Whatever his style may be called I think of it as surf graffiti art. It pops! His pieces are vibrant and frenetic, fun and inspiring. The one above, in particular, places a picture perfect swell, golden local and the entire cosmos in accord an idea that whether true or not is wonderful.

Phil Roberts

When I first saw some of Phil Roberts pieces, it wasn’t JUST the turtle that sold me. Though, it is worth noting, I am obsessed with turtles. Have been most of my life, no plans to rein it in either. Love turtles. The turtle DOES make this my favorite Roberts piece but what I dig about his art is the realism. It may be the polar opposite of Drew Brophy’s fantastical art but it still strikes awe in me. Like Brophy’s, the painting above combines a perfect swell, a golden local, and (I would argue) the cosmic alignment. Though, in the case of Roberts painting the cosmos is not represented in ‘the great out there’ night sky but rather it is in the foreground where the turtle conveys ‘the great out there.’ <—You don’t even know, turtles are ancient bad asses.

Speaking of realism….

Fernanda O’Connell

Fernanda O’Connell’s wave paintings are unbelievable. I can only imagine, what with my no art skills, that it is her use of light  and color that makes the waves in her work:  a.) look like they are in motion; and b.) look like waves. About that b, having just spent weeks and weeks obsessing over them and so staring at the water for extended periods of time, it turns out that waves are a myriad of colors…erm, all at once. EVERY wave. Not just in the aqua heaven that is the tropic but out there in the plain old Pacific, too. What’s more, the way the light moves through waves is etherial. Too, much? Stunning. Transcendant. Uniquely beautiful. O’Connell’s paintings reflect the qualities of waves which make them ‘magical,’ color and light in motion.

Drew Brophy

SEE!! Even Drew Brophy depicts sea creatures as representatives of ‘the great out there’ sometimes!

There ya have it, these are a few of my favorite surf prints.

Long Slow Surf: Drowning

Ten minutes late for my first swimming lesson. How’s that for kicking off my big surf adventure?! Could be kind of concerning, I guess? As I already know how to swim I’m not particularly worried about it though. I’m just not a “strong” swimmer. I’m a “gettin by” swimmer. <—And, that is in a pool.

 

 

It occurred to me sometime early this summer that I had to learn how to surf. Blame it on the books I was reading. Desire, books and a whole lot of inaction sums up my “summer of learning how to surf.” In my defense, I spent the early weeks of summer with a boot on my left ankle and/or in physical therapy working to regain a full range of motion after a “small” tear. (Quick FYI on tears: big or small, when the attending medical staff offer condolences that your ankle isn’t broken they mean it. <–Months. M-O-N-T-H-S.)

After the boot came off and the PT began…June…I started asking my therapist at every session, can I run? No. Dojo? No. Run? No. Really? No.

Fuck.

A couple weeks in I was informed I should be swimming. Specifically, a kick board was mentioned and laps. Boring. Can I run? No.

So, I swam. No kick board, some laps. Whatev. Then, in mid July, at a session I asked, can I run? No. Dojo? No. Run? No. Surf? Yeah, we’ll tape your ankle like a gymnast. Uh….really? Yeah, tape it up.

Fuck.

Suddenly moving along my ‘learn to surf’ obsession, from the theoretical to the real, was hinged entirely to my ACTUALLY learning how to surf! Conveniently, I got the ok to surf just days before the US Open of Surfing came to Huntington Beach. There was exactly no chance I was going to try to get near a wave while that circus was in town. I was, however, going to go to the circus.

The US Open of Surfing

 

 

In the days between my PT therapist green lighting surfing and the start of the Surf Open all my concerns regarding surfing had an opportunity to ferment in my psyche. First and foremost, drowning. No, kids, not sharks. D-R-O-W-N-I-N-G.

It is with pure awe that I stare out over my local beaches, on any given day, and see dozens to hundreds of people of all ages and shapes charging out into the Pacific like it ain’t no thing. It seemed to me that everyone everywhere that could swim had somehow been blessed with the ability to take that skill into open water. That is not how my swimming skills developed!

I have been in the water since I was a kid, lakes, pools, rivers, okay. None of the aforementioned experience has led me to believe that I could charge out into the ocean and handle my shit with complete competence. If there was a class on that, I missed it. And, it must just be me, right? There are toddlers with boards, grannies, too, not to mention, athletes and seriously out of shape folks. Further proof that the whole world can swim came by virtue of the fact that nobody ever talks about swimming relative to surfing. I had gone through a half dozen books, read a couple back issues of Surfer, lived in beach communities for years at this point…swimming or, more specifically, not being an open water swimmer is not a subject that had come up.

Fuck.

How does one explain to a surf instructor that they were not gifted with an innate ability to swim in open water? Sure, sure, that three year old appears comfortable but this 30+ year old has some concerns…

Enter the pros. My intention with the US Open of Surfing was to simply stop by mid-week, have a look around, see a heat or two and bounce. Accordingly, I grabbed a coffee and headed down to the pier in the early hours of the morning. Sitting in the bleachers with half-a-dozen others, coffee in their hands, calling into the office, etc. it seemed like an interesting enough way to spend an hour. Then the characters from those books I had been reading came to life on the waves before me, names I had never heard of and ones that I had. My first heat was Rob Machado’s only heat. Awesome! I saw my first heat, second, third…two and half-hours later I had a new plan. Be back first thing in the morning, dressed appropriately with everything I could possibly need for the day and not move again.

And so it was.

Sitting on the beach the next afternoon surrounded by thousands of people the event announcer made mention of a life guard charging into the rip tide, what he said was (and this is a paraphrase) ‘nothing ruins a life guard’s day like a board from Cost Co and a kid that can’t swim.’ Holy. Shit. ←Right. There. That is when it hit me, half those people may not even know how to swim! They are just hauling their dumb asses out into the ocean on some kind of ‘what could go wrong’ faith! Awesome!

Just so we’re clear, had I just charged out into the ocean and gotten caught in that rip tide I would be that fool out there flailing trying to swim back in while being sucked out. What do I know about swimming parallel to the beach?!

In the interest of driving home the ‘start with your swimming skills’ lesson, the Universe, saw fit that night to move Laird Hamilton’s book, “Force of Nature: Mind, Body, Soul (And, of course, Surfing)” to the top of my reading pile. The book had been in the pile for some time but it is not as if I only have one book pile, people. Thus, it was not until THAT night that I cracked THAT book. Rather than a ‘chapter’ book it is more of a ‘section’ book, there is no need to read it from beginning to end so I didn’t. I skipped around pen-ultimately getting to “fear” and “training to surf.”

On “fear,” Hamilton writes:

“You can spend your whole life fence-sitting because you’re frightened of something bad that might happen—or you can launch yourself into it with all of your conviction and all of your intelligence. Here’s my advice: Meet up with your fears. If you’re afraid of sharks, go learn all about sharks. Get into the water with one. If you respect fear, face it straight on and act anyway.” (P.8)

On “training for surfing:”

“SWIM: Get yourself a pair of fins, and hit the water.” (P.198)

Okay.

I’m afraid of drowning. Swimming is a part of training for surfing. Got it. Facing that fear, for me, isn’t as simple as grabbing some fins. Unless, of course, fins come with an explanation of rip tides and any other inherent risk of open water swimming I would need to know about? Assuming that they don’t, for me, surfing begins with swimming lessons.

Swimming lessons have begun…give or take 10 minutes.

Book Surfing ( a return to the sea)

As I sit down to write this, I can’t help but wonder if, when my reading tangents begin they never really end so much as their primacy ebbs and flows? I’ve returned to the sea in my reading choices and it occurred to me that I had been here before not to long ago, right? Right? I looked up my last blog on books about the sea…December 2009. Daumn. Just so we’re clear, in my reading mind I was just there! JUST there, reading histories of the Caribbean, Treasure Island and Under the Black Flag. Hemingway. December 2009, really?

Well, whatever. In June 2012, I can say, I’ve returned to that sea tangent albeit from a slightly different take. The ‘call’ began with Susan Casey’s The Wave: In Pursuit of the Rogues, Freaks and Giants of the Ocean. This particular book while coming at waves from a myriad of perspectives, scientific, cultural, sporting, etc, introduced me to big wave surfing. For the record, I think big wave surfing is insane. I still want to see it, though. Maybe, I would want to try it too…? Here’s the thing, I take great comfort in knowing that there are boys and girls around the world, watching the weather and willing to drop everything and head out into the middle of the ocean on the off-chance that they will get to ride a stories high wall of water, that might kill them or might set them free. So I’m not among them, I still feel better knowing their out there.

The ethos of surfing appeals to me, so does the courage and the athleticism. My distinction between the ethos and the courage inherent in surfing is not arbitrary. Among the surfer stories that I have read the ‘ethos:’ the mindset and belief system attached to surfing speaks to an intelligence, flexibility, attentiveness and a faith but very few surfers make mention of their own courage. From where I sit, courage is a huge part of this cultures make up. Beyond faith and an undeniable skill set the men and women who take to the waves whether in the middle of the Pacific or just a few hundred yards from the shore line excercise a reserve of courage not often witnessed in folks sporting activities. I kick box and run, take the occasional yoga series and dance classes, there is no danger inherent in any of those sports/leisure activities. Can I get injured? Sure. Am I going to drown? Am I at the mercy of the elements? Am I banking on my ability to safely negotiate THE OCEAN? Nope.  My awe of the courage of surfers grows as I make my way through the stories in Clint Willis’ Big Wave: Stories of Riding the World’s Wildest Water.

On deck in my surfer books is Laird Hamilton’s Force of Nature: Mind, Body, Soul, And, of Course, Surfing, I expect, though I can not yet be sure, that Hamilton’s book will only reinforce my admiration of surfing culture. As for the athleticism inherent in surfing? One need read no further than Kelly Slater’s Pipe Dreams: A Surfer’s Journey. Slater’s story details his rise to world champion…oh…six times over. Though I have no illusions of professional surfing, Slater’s story more than any other has fueled my more than passing interest in getting up on a surf board. (Heal, stupid ankle, heal!!) If a world champion can start surfing on a body board, the least a woman can do is enroll in a surf boot camp (with an instructor, wet suit, and an actual surf board) and TRY.

Lest you think that my current tangent is bereft of any broader oceanic interests, let me be clear, my inner history nerd is alive and well. The TOME I am currently entrenched in is Walter R. Borneman’s The Admirals: Nimitz, Halsey, Leahy, and King–The Five-Star Admirals Who Won the War at Sea. My initial concerns that the span of this book could not possibly be covered in the biographies of four men (They won the war at sea (WWII), really?) have been entirely allayed. I had no idea. The scope of the impact these four men had on naval history is staggering. To the degree that this book and the inevitable direction this book is sending me deserve a post unto themselves. Maybe I will even write one!

Tis that Time, Again.

If you’re in need of some amusement, feel free to review the FIVE whole blogs I managed to log this year. Five. The gaping holes in my written year lend themselves rather succinctly to outlining the kind of year I actually had. In the interest of a year-end comparative I went back to the end of 2010 to see what I had written, I wrote nothing. So there is a change! This year actually ends.

Never been a huge fan of year-ends, less concerned with new years than I am with new birthdays but I regard both with general disdain. The demarcation of time passed has always served as an opportunity to beat myself senseless over failures, rather than any kind of celebration of growth or success. In the last few days I’ve vacillated between my usual ‘look, look at what you have not done’ thought processes and the conviction that articulating any of those thoughts would be a disservice to my friends. That’s new.

If I said only one thing about 2011 and what I’ve come to understand from it, it would be this: I get by with a little (or, a fuck-ton of) help from my friends. 

This whole positive spin thing is new so in keeping with the #1 thing I learned this year, I’m gonna borrow a friend’s model. Mostly.  This post will cover 11 successes, celebrations or understandings I’ve experienced in 2011.

1.) I get by with the help of my friends. In more instances than I can count I have been carried through this year by friends in my life. I’ve shared this before but it is worth repeating, some of my closest friends can be counted among my family and it is my friends that constitute my family. Got it?

2.) I’m still standing. See, #1. In February of this year 2010 came to a crushing close. Sounds dramatic, I know. The fact remains, though. My father died in the first week of November 2010. It took weeks following his death to end his life. Arranging the funeral, sorting and filing paperwork. It seemed to me at the time that there was roughly 6842 questions that had to be answered. I can take charge of anything, just ask my friends, and I did. Then I returned home and sorted out my own life which had fallen into it’s own state of disarray. At the point that everything, everywhere was back to rights the reality of his death caught up with me. In the second week of February, I got up one morning walked the three(?) steps to the end of my bed and dropped to my knees. I hit a wall. I couldn’t breath. I couldn’t get up. In the hours, then the days, weeks and months that followed that morning friends in my immediate circle saved my life, carried my weight, sorted my head and kept me going until I could stand and move on my own again.

3.) I managed to put together two years. See, #1 & #2. Thank the Great Pumpkin.

4.) This year has afforded me the opportunity to see a number of unfuckingbelievable concerts! Slash in Oregon featuring TK!!! They think they were featuring Myles and I’m glad he was there BUT that show features Todd (are you kidding me) Kerns.  Merle Haggard & Kris Kristofferson under the stars at the Greek. Foo Fighters x 3, the Forum shows were fantastic but seeing the Foos on Record Store Day at Fingerprints in Long Beach goes down as one of the most incredible shows that I have ever been to.The Golden God Revolver Awards featuring LOADED with some appearances by others like…the OG Alice Cooper band! Oh, and did I mention Loaded? Loaded at the Viper Room in April, can you say happy birthday to me?! And,to take the live music year out! BOB SEGER!!!!!!!!!!!!! Have not seen Bob since 1996 and listening to him and Alto Reed in a sold out Staples Center was staggering. All of the Bullets were fantastic but Alto, shit.

5.) Orange belt. I got my orange belt in Muay Thai this year. I didn’t start at orange, of course, that’s just where I got to. In Muay Thai, generally there isn’t a belt system but the Master at my dojo was done ‘coaching’ parents on the progress of the younger students. Turns out the belt system works for me, too. It has been a measurable system of growth. Besides the pretty color scheme (Ha.) the thing about Kick boxing in general that works for me is it helps me to focus on nothing but the next step in front of me. When I don’t, it hurts. Real straight forward means of getting centered. Being focused and getting centered amounts, for me, to getting right. I never feel more together than I do leaving the dojo a sweaty, stinky, bruised disaster. I love it. 

6.) Travel. There is pretty much nowhere on this planet that I don’t want to see. I grew up in a family, in a town where most never leave. For various reasons, see #3, I believed for a huge portion of my life that I would die in that same town without ever leaving it. For that very reason, trying to out run that belief I began taking road trips at ages most kids wouldn’t. I had to. That need to travel has never left me, for some time including this last year, I’ve been in a position to direct that travel impulse. 2011 saw trips to two of my favorite places, Salem, Oregon in February and Seattle this past October. Oregon was a show jaunt with my Loaded family. Seattle a trip to see a once in a life time event featuring a life long hero. June afforded me my first travel to Europe. I got to head over to England to witness (and participate!) in my friends’ wedding! In the process got to see London and any number of sites and places that I have only ever dreamed of. This holiday season took me to the Bay Area on a couple of occasions and to the Sacramento area which I’ve not seen in quite some time.

7.) Guitar. This year saw the return of the guitar to my life in earnest. This one is still all mine for now.

8.) Books. Reading is a huge part of my life and this year there were a number of books that left their mark upon me. Duff McKagan’s autobiography, It’s So Easy and Other Lies deserves a post unto itself frankly. To say the very least it is a staggering tale of fortitude and perseverance. Susan Casey’s, The Wave: In the pursuit of the Rogues, Freaks and Giants of the Ocean was sent to me by a friend and has left me convinced that the next hobby I shall undertake is big wave surfing! Rick Riordan’s, The Son of Neptune, Book Two in the Heroes of Olympus series came out in October! Bless Riordan! His adventure series’ are some of the funnest books I’ve read. And, last though not least, everything written by Edward Bear has been read, reread, quoted and carried around with me over the course of this year.

9.) Dream Job. By the grace of a friend, I had the opportunity to see how an industry I’ve dreamed of being a part of operates. I learned more than I wanted to and less than I needed to, if that makes any sense. And, even if it doesn’t, I know that I got an opportunity to see from an inside perspective how a project evolves and that is not a place I could have garnered on my own.

10.) I’m a grown up. You might think that that one would have occurred to me sooner but you would be wrong. I figured this out, wait for it…by virtue of my friends. On multiple occasions, in recent days I have found myself dumbfounded by the unsolicited characterizations friends have made of me. To the degree that I recently declared somewhere that I hope to be the person that my friends believe I am. That’s the benchmark, right there and at some point I must have met it otherwise they would not have had reason to mention the virtues they think I posses. So, at the risk of repeating myself, I hope to be the person my friends believe me to be.

11.) New year, new birthday. This one just amuses me. I mentioned at the outset of this post my disdain for new years and new birthdays. As fate would have it I head into this new year knowing that on my next birthday Guns n’ Roses, the band that brought me to music in the first place will be inducted into the Rock n’ Roll Hall of Fame. A few friends and I will be on hand to witness the induction and I could not be more excited about it. Nor, would I be there at all if it wasn’t for the kindest gesture from a dear friend. Bring on the New Years.

Thank you, thank you, thank you does not begin to cover the scope of my gratitude for the friends that have brought me through this year.

Love you lots. Happy New Year!

Again.

It begins (again) with a remodel.

My Week Or Yours?

“I’m late, I’m late for a very important date…”

-White Rabbit, Alice in Wonderland

 

This post is one part confessional one part prompt. I didn’t post last week after having signed on to the post a week challenge(?) just three weeks ago! Is it a challenge? Not in any public sense, at least not for me, the idea as I embraced it was to serve as a motivator to get words down on pape…er, uh on the screen. That said, who blows a challenge in the third week? Obviously, and quite naturally, my first impulse was to just throw in the towel all together. Then I thought just a moment longer and it occurred to me that I could just confess my sin post twice this week and carry on. Thus, the prompt part of this post. I missed a week. I am NOT quitting as a direct result. That is all.

quick poems: I

(Anti-intellectualism)

Chicken-or- the egg,
how would you make a better world?

Ventilate
Ideas for good
Learn how to share
Natural      Disasters

(Digital Age)

 

And the Winners are…

Life’s   new   hybrid.

rah-rah guy:   

Two hands on the ball at all times

Eyes forward even when you run sideways

Plant your foot in the direction of your target

bleeding-heart type:

Psychotic and severely un-Patriot-like

Pretty severe metrosexual

or, a weeper:

Hideous

Please understand,

In some never heard of secret training room   

Psychic symbiosis births the cult concept.

As a matter of religious obligation,

Only in reverse,

Terrorizing we men into a cultish monotone.  

Alien  

Poses as

Strength.

Alien

Poses as

A way of life.

But, Jesus, I’ll take it

ThisILove, Pt. II

This post is the follow-up or conclusion to this post: This I Love, Pt. I. Yeah, it’s only taken 5 plus months to get it off my draft clip board. Eeesh. Having owned that these are 6-10 on the short list of works of art that have shaped my identity.

Six

 

James Galvin’s, The Meadow is easily one of the most beautifully written books that I have encountered. I understood upon completion of this reading that I would very much like to be James Galvin when I grow up. Or, barring that I would like to be able to string a sentence together half as well.

Seven

 

It was in my first visit to the Museum of Modern Art, Queens (Manhattan was being remodeled) that I encountered Umberto Boccioni’s, Dynamism of A Soccer Player. I was rendered mute. The colors and the motion of the work suggested that the painting itself was ACTUALLY in motion. I can not even begin to guess how long I stood there agape.

Eight

I have been in love with guitars for as long as I can remember. As a 4 or 5-year-old I saw my first guitar up close in the hands of my Great Uncle. I can recall sitting on my knees with my face inches away from the guitar watching him play for hours. There is not another object in my life that I can meet and simply upon sight be rendered giddy, awed, eased, turned on and comforted to my core.

Nine 

Alexandre Hogue’s dust bowl era paintings and sketches are inspiring to me on a couple of levels. First, as a history nerd with a particular investment in the Dust Bowl (my paternal grandparents met in a migrant camp in Arizona), the fact that Hogue’s work invokes not just a fascination with painting on my part but also gives rise to my love of history makes him a favorite of mine. Second, Hogue’s critique of ‘environmental policy’ lends itself nicely to my own politics on the matter. His dust bowl pieces are critical and heartbreaking as they should be.

 

Ten 

Last though certainly not least, Wrigley Field! Or, is it just the Cubs. Or, Cubbie culture. Wrigley Field embodies every aspect of baseball mythology-it is legend AND it is real. The Cubs, losers though they may be have HEART. That I respect. And as for Cubbie culture, I’m not sure there is a club, sect, base or label in my life that I am prouder to be a part of.

I’m Posting every week in 2011!

I’ve decided I want to blog more. Rather than just thinking about doing it, I’m starting right now. I will be posting on this blog once a week for all of 2011.

I know it won’t be easy, but it might be fun, inspiring, awesome and wonderful. Therefore I’m promising to make use of The DailyPost, and the community of other bloggers with similiar goals, to help me along the way, including asking for help when I need it and encouraging others when I can.

If you already read my blog, I hope you’ll encourage me with comments and likes, and good will along the way.

Signed,

What She Said