... i have always been acused of being dark, from my photos to my sense of humor. the reality is that, in the world today, if you do not pull your punches the truth often comes out and that truth is often dark. as an artist i reflect the world not change it, and i seldom pull punches. my images, my photos in particular, are taken at night. for me the night is vacant, honest and often exudes the truth. here in california (the south near the water) we lack stars. so the notion of the night as an empty sanctuary becomes evident to me. even the heavens will not keep you company.
images of off-hour industry and empty public domains fascinate me. it pulls from the idea of the self in conflict with the scene, and in turn you are left to contemplate why you are out at all. for me its the beauty. for others its escape. i am not here to explain why just to make the idea come alive. its funny i cant sleep alone and i hate being alone but, strangly enough, it is the majority of my life. that is why it is conflict and thus becomes my subject.
... i take alot of picture these days and many of you may not know my more colorful side here are some pages of my sketchbook. although they are not the most recent they are the latest things i put on paper. sometimes i forget about what i love to do. -management
... since the beginning of time when the first artists crept out of the caves at lascaux we have never been free from the tyranny of the box. from the edges of a canvas to the walls of my apartment, the box has no mercy.
when i was boy i had a place i went called stoney meadows it was the unincorporated land between the country club and the flood control. its hard to find a spot of your own in the city. the meadows were full of tall grass, kids on bmx bikes and the occasional urban horse owner. nowadays the spot is still and quiet with the clockwork sounds of the electric train crossing against the river now and again. it is still a place for dreams and lazy afternoons with a dog or a joint. it is a bit smaller than it was before but it will always be good for a laugh or fun run through the spoil piles and the abandon city works. out here the box has no power and no place to put its cold arms around me.
as i get older finding time away from the world gets just a bit harder every year. even when you can get a sweet moment of bliss it is over as soon as it starts. out in the meadows the time stands still and the sun always makes the dandelion flyers float upwards to the sky. all there is are bugs and beatles with the dirty aloneness that comes with the lack of pedestrian traffic. i am not anti social but 'away' is good and the sweet smell of dry grass and dusty fun will always be better than the hum of the computer and the polyphonic twang of my cell phone.
last TEN in the juke @ 11
7 seconds ))) 99 red balloons
snapcase ))) she (misfits cover)
all ))) wishing well
beatles ))) eleanore rigby
CCR ))) bad moon rising
mobb deep ))) instrumentals
desmond dekker ))) jamaica ska
fishbone ))) fishyswa ska
maria mena ))) fragile
misfits ))) she
... wandering the cool dusty streets with friendly koreans
at night i like to run the streets and find a lil piece of my own mind. tonight the roads are cool and the fog presses gently against my face. down the first hill and over the next, past the spot where eager teens make out and over the fence and in to the friendship bell. the korean friendship bell to be exact. a lonely reminder of better times when we were friendly.
the soft grass on the hill above the sea is low and tight. my old school vans are damp and slippery and give a little as i creep through off limit areas of my local historical park. i am not there to do any harm just to snap a couple of pictures and enjoy the still night air but, i feel like a criminal. not the kind you hide from behind so many locked doors and alarms but the kind that steals quiet moments and gives them to you through his camera. my head is clear and crisp, sucking up the thick night air. my only thoughts are of the kind open night and the fact that i am sitting on top of a decomissioned triton missle site from the early fifties and all i can do is smile.
... i have not drawn a picture in over a year. not since xmas eve.
its time to get some inspiration. its time to ride the asphalt beltway to the center of the universe. mike, todd, and will B. are stirring the pot across the bridge on the phone ...
"hey"
"hey, hows it going?"
"what are you up to tonight?"
"not much just a bit of writing on the computer. why?"
"todd and will are over here, and we are gonna get into something later, are you in?"
"sure, im in." ... click
outside my house it smells like wet rocks from the sea. the orange sodium glow from the street lights make the fog turn into a rich wet paint. it is super quiet and the road is moist and open. ready for a lil' excitement.
as we ride the 710 to the 5 and on to the 101 the night air dries and begins to burn my eyes. i can hear the guys in the back seat talk about new records and the best route to cahuenga boulevard. as soon as its said the path in front of us gets choked up and we come to a halt. never question a fickle metropolis.
"wow, traffic on a friday @ 11?"
"hell no, not for us. not tonight. its our night. she owes us one."
the city was listening. as fast as it was spoken the clog shot down the drain and we were back to speed. the hills were rising and falling around us and the tall buildings from the center were lit like a colony of light houses showing us the way. the headlights from the cars and the tangy orange sky make it feel like two in the afternoon. all the windows are open and the excitement was palpable. cahuenga was dead ahead and begging the question "are you in?"
... all of us were drawing a line from the edge of the world to the center of the universe.
... the devil winds are back and running hot across the LA basin.
the santa anas are churning up the sea and my soul. the hot winds burn through the mountain passes and slide across the empty city at night to meet me by the water's edge, there i greet them as they set off to catalina to tickle the buffalos. a small skeleton figure that dwells on my dresser wobbles and dances with spirits of his ancestors that live in the hot breeze. no ships leave the port and none come in. its time for respect, the winds are listening.
around midnight i grab my camera and head to the port. always nervous that the unexpected may happen. my camera beeps and whirrs with anticipation. the waterfront is loney and dry as i set the tripod. every time i hear a howl i ask myself 'is it the wind or the wolves?' you can never be too careful. the burning air brings out the animal in people. after i steal a couple souls with my magic picture box i hit the road home. when i get back to my nest i hear the urgent straining cry of ambulances coming down my street. they shoot right past to the cliffs by the ocean with the wind chasing right behind. the devil winds always get somebody, i'm just glad it wasnt me tonight.
... it really feels like the edge of the world sometimes. its time to get back to why i made this blog. takin' pics and tellin' stories.
the surf was big today and the weather sat firmly at 81 degrees but, the water was still very, very chilly. despite that all the kids were out in the afternoon sun just like a hot mid summer day. it still felt quiet, warm and a bit lonely, maybe slightly more so if it werent for the pinkish brown island of catalina pokeing its form out of the azure green sea.
... it felt good this fine day on my edge of the world.
... ANTI flix are at the core of cinema and the core of my RAGE against the MACHINE attitude. SO, here are some flix that have a great message and that message is ... FUCK YOU!
1)The Harder They Come )- With a Piece in His Hand He Takes on the Man! thats the actual TAGLINE. plus Jimmy Cliff always rules
2)Romper Stomper )- there are many reasons to hate russel crow, but this ain't one of them
3)Dolomite )- rudy ray moore and the hamburger pimp. this is a FUCK YOU film at it's sweet black core
4)Shaft )- when the man let's you down SHAFT will take care of you. he's a bad moth ... shut your mouth. i'm just sayin' ...
5)Easy Rider )- the movie that was made on the cheep and on the waaaaaaaay cool. all about freedom
6)Heavy Metal Parking Lot )- this is a film that has FUCK YEAH more than FUCK YOU but you'll see why i picked it
7)Instrument )- this is the only documentary i wanted to put in here. i was gonna do another list but it had to post it. fugazi, mmmmmmmm mmmmm good
8)Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid )- if your gonna get shot or die, do it in style (not all wussy like thelma and louise)
9)Night of the Living Dead )- a slap in the face of conventional cinema and the first heroic black lead in film. take that bitches!
10)Barfly )- based on the life of good ol' Chuck Bukowski 'nuff said. go SAN PEDRO!
i bet not all of you have seen all of these but, like i said, if you have'nt done it ... DO IT you WOBBLER!
...things are slowly but surely coming into focus.
the last 10 HIP HOP in the juke ... @ 11
jurassic 5 ))) live @ HOB
the pharcyde ))) passing me by
NWA ))) straight outta compton
tribe called quest ))) award tour
run DMC ))) king of rock
beastie boys ))) shadrach
shapeshifters ))) ???
DMX ))) rough riders anthem
the streets ))) your fit (but you know it)
dj Q-bert ))) wave twisters DVD st .... dedicated to Jericho Brown
... i dont want to say i'm difficult but i have dick streak a mile wide. being ANTI is good for the constitution. hell, if your too agreeable you kinda suck. SO here are some flix that have a great message and that message is ... FUCK YOU!
1)A Clockwork Orange )- 'you fancy a bit of the ol in , out?' this movie will give it to you. ultra violence and dutch modern design never looked so good together
2)Sid & Nancy )- sid viscious and nancy spungen are the first and the best FUCK YOU role models for a pissed generation
3)Surf Nazis Must Die )- a purse & gun wielding heavy set black mother from LA takes on the punk rock surf nazis and kicks a whole lotta ass
4)SLC Punk )- a new flick with the timeless cautionary tale of the dangers of conformity and mediocrity
5)Nowhere )- drugs and wandering the empty and anonymous streets of mid 90's LA. it makes sense to wander within a lost city within a generation of the lost
6)Taxi Driver )- are you talkin to me? with this pick i am
7)REPO Man )- get acquainted with the shitty side of life and take a couple of cars while you are at it
8)Suburbia )- the original punk classic that defines the genre of FUCK YOU films (not the shitty one that came out in the 90's)
9)Quadraphenia )- 'i feel like a bit of a rou!' the brits have a bit more than just pretty teeth, they got mad style and scooters to boot
10)Rockers )- from the jamaican undrground. this flick shows you that all you need is a sound system and a bitchin motorbike (as long as it has the lion of judah painted on the side!)
i'm sure that most of you worth your salt have seen these, but if you have not... DO IT you WOBBLER!
ther are some bands that rock so hard that they scare even me. here are five that will annoy even the coolest of parents.
1) the MENTORS )- damn El Duche scares me ,may he rise as a zombie.
2) the BOREDOMS )- you go Japanese noise core, we love ya keep it up
3) the LOCUST )- let them infest your mind . it wont take long
4) the DWARVES )- like the name the are short and not so sweet
5) SLAYER )- a hard as hell classic ROCK em LOUD
in a bit of idol worship / praise, lets not forget to give all props to MOTORHEAD because if it wasnt for them making all of our ears bleed none of these bands would even exist. LONG LIVE LEMMIE !!! grrrrrrrrrrr
... and then the ROCK came. last 10 on th juke ... at 11.
tiger army ))) true romance
go go's ))) our town
x ))) los angeles
body snatcher ))) on my radio
madness ))) one step beyond
janes addition ))) classic girl
dead boys ))) sonic reducer & flame thrower love
ac/dc ))) back in black
bad brains ))) sailin on
trans am ))) motor ...rock on ROCKERS! ftw
around 9:00 at night the family get together got stale and i just met a cousin that i never knew before. raul lives in lakewood over by the mall. its mid summer '89 and the weather is perfect for a night surf session.
"i dont know man i've never done that before."
"so? just c'mon. you'll love it. we'll be by the pier and we can use the lights from the pier to see the wave. its a blast."
"ok bro, im in"
we jumped in the 81 prelude i was driving and grabed the boards (body at the time) and took off for the shore. it was a short drive in those days. everything seemed closer then. when we hit the shore the low rumble of head high pier bowls could be heard from the parking lot. i looked over at raul and he didnt look good.
"are you sure bro?"
"heeelll yeah" i was on a mission.
we suited up and jumped in. the water was warm and comfortable. we were the only ones out on an empty beach with just a few people lookin down on us from the boardwalk above. as we rose and fell with the sizable waves, the fun began. i wont tell you about my first wave in the dark, but i sure can tell you about his. it fell together like magic. i told him to set up by the pier, almost under it, and go when i say GO. at the time in seal beach the waves did a lil bounce off the pier and would bowl up to make a sewer pipe like tube. after acouple of 'almosts' i set him off on a mutha of a wave. he kicked a bit and slid in. the black water lurched up and out about two extra feet and peeled over him. i could see down the tube at him and all that was visible was his huge grin he had while he rode my version of a wet space mountain and the best wave of his life. when he hit the beach he got up smiled at me and shot back out to the line up.
since then raul has survived a malignant brain tumor and the surgery to correct it. he doesnt surf any more and i dont see him much these days, but i do know that the beach at night is a very special place. to me and raul at least.
... i love rock and roll, but i sometimes forget how much. lets fix that.
i love to listen rock and roll (punk and garage the most). i also enjoy rockin out with friends and playing instuments. i always have, its my moral imperitive. SO I PROMISE you this, to put more music and culture in my blog so i can shove my point of view down your throat (dont worry, it wont hurt:)
last 10 in the juke box now - at volume 11
devo ))) mongaloid
yeah yeah yeahs ))) tick
the mars volta ))) concertina
bad religion ))) los angeles is burning
NWA ))) dopeman
the nekromantix ))) subcultural girl
devo ))) ton o love
thee headcoats ))) thee earls of suavedom
operation ivy ))) bad town
minor threat ))) good guys
if you dont got em' get em. lets get back to the roots of why we all decided to say 'fuck you' to the world! so that being said, check out my brother at arms @ Blank Forever this philly kid has the love and you should too, bitches!
... taking pictures feels like fulfilling my oath to art.
i owe somebody an apology. its my roomate from college. his name is will salley. he taught me everything that i ever knew about photog. even both my teachers in college & high school pale in comparison to this awesome homie.
in the biblical sense and as food. the latter is what we'll talk about. as i stand by the stove on this rainy soCal day and make one of the only dishes i'm any good at (linguinni and cl@ms) i remember being a boy of 4 in alaska. after my father died when i was two, a year or so later my mom and i moved to alaska in search of a different life in the great white north along side the pipeline. the seventies were an interesting time to say the least, but i will refrain from reminissing about the decade, but not about the ...
CLAMS, razor clams to be exact. they lived in the mud flats outside of kenai, where we lived for a while when i was young. my earliest memories are in those mud flats. racing in after the tide goes out and running for the lil bubbles that them sweet tasty gastropods make as they filter for food in the sand. getting stuck in the mud and digging till my tiny hands froze was all in a good day of clammin'. after the day was coming to an end i can distinctly remember walking across a small stream and hearing the loud squeak of my rubber boots losing grip and the imediate sensation of face on rock. POP, my lip! damn it hurt. i cried and went on my way home with my mom. that night the buttery taste of clams made it all feel better.
these days clams remind me of being a lil boy by the beach in alaska with a fat lip and a bucket of squirting clams :) can't beat it!
... winter by the beach. surfing, warm coffee, & bloody marys
i once heard a guy say 'the worst winter he ever had was a summer in london' well, here in soCal its just the opposite. ever see LA Story? it is a story about a weather man in LA played by steve martin. in the movie there is a scene where he pre-tapes the weather report. that is almost the case around here. as for me, winter in soCal is fun and awkward. the sky stays blue but the wind chills or the sky goes clear and the santa anas blow hot tward the sea and all bets are off.
winter is the slightly cool spot between summer and pre-summer (spring). since im from this little corner of the world it becomes a time of nostalgia, where i remember the odd killer storm from years ago or revel in the awesome clean cold waves from the northseas of alaska. either way the fire at turk's (bar) in sunset beach catches me after another cold dive into the indifferent bossom of my piece of the pacific ocean. another winter rumbles across the basin and more warm coffee and bloody marys by the beach for me :)
... to my #1 reader that hates my guts. yes, you ... d.e.
i tried to reach out to an old friend, and it failed miserably. you would think that after you spend a certain amount of time (quality time may i add) with a loved one they may not spend the rest of thier lives trying to forget that you even existed. well that doesnt always apply. for some it may just be easier to forget than accept failure. as for me its easier to just be nice and hope that newer more platonic memories take the place of the old and the re-blossoming of an awesome friendship would occur. (now you hear a loud wrong answer buzzer!!!!)
there is one major flaw with my well placed intentions, they are indeed mine and not her's. yes this is mostly for me. my horrible, disgusting, vulnerable, mis-guided emotions. sarcasm aside and reality in the front, lets just say that when i have someone in my life that shared that much emotion, time and joy, i want to be at least on a good note with them. its probably the idea of when i really fall in the big L with someone (for reals) i keep them in my heart forever. that is the romace in my heart that has not died yet (i say 'yet' because the inevitability is overwhelming). it seems that the ship may have sailed on that whole idea of the friendly ex and the reality of love in so-cal for me. all i ever wanted was to stop hiding when i see her or have to hear from friends about seeing her around. that sux. i just wanted to know that she knows i cared and that the love i felt was true and all the dumb mistakes and mis-steps that i had taken were all about myself and that if my insensitivity has anyway made her life worse. i am sorry.
i never knew being sorry was such an insult and that i as a person i dont even desreve a shot of saying it out loud. i always thought that the mark of a man had alot to do with the responsibility he takes for his actions. maybe not i guess. all i can say is that i tried. i leave you with this quote i have found on a coffe mug that sits on my desk ...
"the spirit of nursing comes from the heart"
i dont know where that leaves me or the reader but i hope its true enough to make this entry worth it. i miss you and i tried. as lame as it sounds i'm here for you and thats all.- deryke
and to the other readers i'll try to put an end to the schlocky posts but i cant promise you anything.- dc9thousand
... me and new years eve, what a ride we've had. 31 strong ...
the world may not be flat, but my head feels like it is. it never fails to amaze me, i'm not the most holiday sort of guy, but when new years eve rears it nasty lil head i am a sucker for its siren song of booze and debauchery. batten down the hatches gilligan 'cause the preassure of the last 365 is about to pop. wars, olympics, lost chix, fires, floods, and f*&ckin tidal waves for cryin' out loud. 2004 was a mediocre year at best. i say we crank up OH-5 to 11 and rock the newest incoming bracket of our calendar. its only uphill from here.
... since the beginning of time when the first artists crept out of the caves at lascaux we have never been free from the tyranny of the box. from the edges of a canvas to the walls of my apartment, the box has no mercy.
... wandering the cool dusty streets with friendly koreans
... i have not drawn a picture in over a year. not since xmas eve.
... the devil winds are back and running hot across the LA basin.
... it really feels like the edge of the world sometimes. its time to get back to why i made this blog. takin' pics and tellin' stories.
... it felt good this fine day on my edge of the world.
... focus in the 
... and then the ROCK came. last 10 on th juke ... at 11.
... the beach at night is a special place.
since then raul has survived a malignant brain tumor and the surgery to correct it. he doesnt surf any more and i dont see him much these days, but i do know that the beach at night is a very special place. to me and raul at least.
... just because i go out at all hours of the night and take pictures in the dark, does that mean i am creepy?
... taking pictures feels like fulfilling my oath to art.
... i enjoy clams
... life is so nice sometimes, i just forget about the crap.
... winter by the beach. surfing, warm coffee, & bloody marys
