SCULPTURE
Untitled // (2016)
acrylic, 8 recylced skateboard decks, cotton fabric
It used to eat me up that I wasn’t able to be as good as I wanted too. My body would become friends with exhaustion, when my mind wanted to retain its craggy, but stable relationship with persistence. The homies would all gain experience, while I’ve remained stagnant. Physically, but not anywhere near mentally. Or, in a lighter sense: My art path has gained leverage, while I see they’ve all remained in the same rut. For me, skating was a huge give and take, and eventually I felt as though I gave all I could. The arts, however, were always prevalent through out my life, but only recently have I been answering their calls truthfully, and concisely. The more I was able to express myself within my art, the more I gained the ability to speak that skating didn’t really provide. Even now, skating has turned into something so acceptable, so imitated, that everyone has at least attempted it, if not fully purchased a Longboard or Penny board. It has lost the magic/freedom it had originally given me when I first started. Now when I skate, there is a bit of emptiness, almost as if the love I once had for it became grievingly dormant. I don’t know if it is my personal development or if the activity has changed that drastically, but there is definitely a void. I skate now as a means of transportation and not as much to exercise my trick library, as sad as it is to write. I lost interest in learning the traditional tricks, because I feel the skate world is over saturated with it, and with my progressing level of regression, I feel as though I have nothing to add to the conversation anymore. Not only that, but I was never consistent enough with my ability to perform the tricks my homies were, and I always felt I was behind in that regard. Even though my love for skating has diminished quite a bit, I don’t think I’ll ever 100% step off my grip. Whether it is doing tricks or just cruising, I will always be part of the culture. I have certain knowledge and customs too deeply ingrained in me for it not to be. I still love the feeling of being on my board and flowing through the streets effortlessly. It has become like breathing now and I’m not sure I could ever replace that feeling. I wanted to bring that same energy into this piece: the feeling of movement, but also obtuse and disregarded. This piece is made from 8 decks that I’ve kept preserved in a closet for years after skating them. My hopes are that this piece can now house the energy I once contained inside of me; with as much love and care as I used to treat the wood I rode on. This work is a reflection of my past self, and a testament to what I will never forget.