A boy stands on the edge of a ramp. He is a child, really. 11 years old. It has taken him these years to grow from infancy, to learn to move, to make his way to the top of this massive curved structure. His body is just learning to express its desire for action and communion. His skin is soft and clear, his eyes wild, a determined look on his face, yet still innocent.

He leans forward and drops in. His legs unweight as he plummets in the perfect path of gravity. Nothing restrains his descent. He is 12 now, 13, his adolescence flying by as his wheels lightly grace the surface of the ramp. His eyes water, there is a trace of wisdom in the corner of his glare. He has shed his anxiety, his fear of the darkness, as he falls.

The ramp curves beneath him. Now he is a teenager, his attitude is changing. His style is more pronounced and there is a singular aggression in his stance. His strong legs absorb the increasing impact, his hands trailing at a perfect angle, like a painter holding a brush. He looks forward, no longer unsure of his footing, ready for the eventuality of his committed plunge. The ground rises up to meet him, embroiling him in a battle with light and sound. He is 18, 19, he has come of age, he is in his 20’s, a young man, fierce and intent.

His path straightens. He skates across the flatbottom at full speed. He stands upright, confronting the wind. His eyes take in the expanse of his surroundings, yet remain focused on his path. Time moves so quickly. He is 25 now, 30, releasing himself from his adolescent naiveté, letting go of his judgments and arrogance. The past streams behind him and he wonders how he can have come so far. He feels lucky to be alive, blessed to have seen so much of life’s kaleidoscope.

He is 40 years old. He approaches the oncoming wall at the same breakneck speed. The monolith rises above him and he bends his tiring knees, looking up, absorbing the shift in movement and feeling the wind pushed from his chest. His arms, knotted with muscle and pocked with scars, coordinate to pump his way up the wall like a bird in flight. He knows the answers now, he has freed himself from his misconceptions, he prays for the grace to keep moving, to keep breathing.

He shoots up the transition, a man in his 50’s, 60’s, his skin becoming thin and pale, his eyes retreating in space yet shining bright in luster. His regrets have faded, he has made his peace. His yellowing teeth revealed through a smile, his old legs pushing through the soles of his feet with a familiar assuredness. This is what he has always done, yet it feels as new now as when he was a child.

A 70 year old man reaches the vertical plane of the ramp, casting away the anchors of inertia, set free into the wind. His skateboard takes flight, his wizened frame delicately connected as they rocket into empty space. Rising into the sunlight. He is 80 now, 90, his bones frail but his heart still pumping blood, his thoughts lilting and simple, as if they never meant anything at all. He reaches the apex of his aerial at the age of 100, a centenarian, complete.

Having made the great ascent, he releases himself from his bodily form as his crude mass diminishes into dust and his essence releases into the ether.

He is 1000 years old now, having dissolved into the air and the clouds. He rolls above the earth, observing the movements and inhabitants with an impartial radiance.

100,000 years old. He is the light from the stars, reflecting off the planets and moons through the emptiness of space.

Now he is one million. He has absorbed the deepest, darkest secrets of the cosmos. The half pipe is gone. He is gone.

-GMS, 4/16/2009

As I post another call to the Land Of Plenty fundraiser this Saturday in Ventura, California (Red Brick Gallery, 315 E. Main Street, 7 to 11pm, April 11th), Mr. Jay Babcock reminds me that many Arthur readers are not familiar with the LOP Skateboard Foundation. Let me take this opportunity to give a brief history and the philosophical background of this non-profit organization.

———–

Skateboarding is a lot like music. It is an easily accessible art form, one that can bring pleasure and communion at the most immediate and introductory levels. By simply picking up an instrument you become a musician, and while it may take years of training and inspiration to become masterful, no one can ever say a beginner’s rudimentary noisemaking isn’t music. There is great joy in the listening to and creating of music, and in that joy can be found liberation and sense of purpose, as well as a sense of community. It’s an energetic exchange, and it takes very little to tap into the current right away.

In my younger years skateboarding and music were different sides of the same sphere: my friends were the people I hung out with skateboarding and listening to and playing music, the scenes I got involved with were based around the culture and practice of skateboarding and music, and the life philosophy I absorbed came largely through the personalities and principles of the skaters and musicians I hung around or looked up to. Punk, DIY, hip hop, zines, urban adventure, raw aggression, construction, scientific rationalism, spontaneous action, freestyle, jamming, underground organization, anarchy, self-expression, street art, fashion, sense of humor, etc.- so much of how I interacted with the world was inspired by or influenced by these dual worlds of music and skateboarding.

Music is the more obvious of the two. I don’t think I need to talk much about it, particularly to Arthurians. But skateboarding isn’t as well-understood or appreciated. It has less of a universal appeal, and back in the 80’s and 90’s it wasn’t the subject of documentaries and hott MTV shows- it was widely hated on. Fights, cops, security guards, disapproving parents and teachers. All that sort of thing, some of which has changed over the years, but much of which still remains. But the point is, skateboarding gave me something to appreciate, a deep soul groove to tap into. I was never that good at it, never did it as part of a professional path, but I loved it and followed the culture and always went skating when I needed to be with my peoples and go fast and pump blood and breathe fresh air.

Years later, in my mid-20’s, my hopeful adolescence had passed and I submerged towards a real low point. 9/11 went down, I was in an alcohol and drug induced haze, and I was socially isolating. I aspired to spiritual heights but did not have a strong enough foundation for constructive growth. As a result, I dipped into mental illness and a nihilistic path of self destruction. Once I got a proper booty-whomping and managed to realign my intentions with an elevated path, it occurred to me that my situation was not unique. I think a lot of people go kind of crazy in their 20’s, once they come to terms with certain dismal truths and are unable to discern an appropriate response. Part of my realization was that reaching out and connecting with other people was the only way out of the dark tunnel that I had entered. I was never much of a do-gooder, but I had a real moment of inspiration that came to me from somewhere else entirely. A current of energy said: start a non profit skateboard company, call it the Land Of Plenty. I didn’t have much faith in those days, but I believed in skateboarding, I believed in art, and I always felt that children deserved attention.

The business plan was to sell hand-painted skateboards rather than mass produced boards. Kids, primarily from low-income neighborhoods (but available to any who would want to participate) would get two free skateboard decks: one to keep and skate, and one to paint and return to the LOP. These painted decks, alongside ones painted and donated by professional skaters and artists, would be sold at auction to replenish funds, buy more boards, and extend the network like a matrix across the globe. I knew skaters were generous by nature- they love to share in their gifts and joys and secrets- and I knew the community would support something like this.

The name The Land Of Plenty was an ironic reference to imperialistic narcissism (and inspired by a Pixies lyric), but also a philosophical premise: skateboarding creates so much out of nothing. With a skateboard, a dismal concrete landscape becomes a welcoming palette of possibility. Destructive, anti-social adolescents become a creative community of equals. A piece of wood with wheels becomes an ephemeral canvas. A daredevil becomes an artist. And so on. It’s a mindset of true utilitarian abundance: things like curbs and handrails and empty swimming pools become focal points of incredible enjoyment and achievement. Where once was nothing, there now is something. Nowhere was this more evident than my location in Los Angeles, in California, in America, in the new millennium. This was truly a Land Of Plenty.

The LOP logo was a star in a circle. It is a familiar icon, but turned at a slight angle to suggest motion. The star has five points, the number and sign of man. The circle is the earth, the world that surrounds him. When man is surrounded by the circle, he is perfectly balanced at any angle. Skateboarding is about individuals, complete in their world, balanced in situations that are constantly changing. Change is the essence of growth. Without change, skateboarding has no relevance. A physical skateboard is made of the elements: wood, metal, water, air. The fifth element is fire- the life force of the skater that animates the object. The five elements interact and transmute and correspond to the five points of the star: breath, relaxation, balance, focus, confidence. The cycle continues, rolling forward.

A skateboard doesn’t cost that much, relative to most sporting equipment. At the same time, the wooden deck endures a lot of use and abuse, and most kids can’t afford to buy a new board every time one breaks or wears down. I came from a middle class suburb and had a job and still couldn’t afford enough skate equipment- every time I bought a board cheap from someone who was sponsored or won one in a contest or whatever, it made a huge difference. I knew that a system that could get minors a new skateboard deck every now and then could make a huge positive influence, without a lot of “do this, do that”. At the time I didn’t feel sufficiently complete to pose as a mentor, but the equal playing field of skateboarding didn’t necessitate a relationship as such. It was more about exchange and sharing. The LOP project meant to tap into existing plentitude: create art out of the ether, get the funds from people who had a little more to give, start flowing boards and there would be plenty for everyone to go around. Everyone could learn from and be inspired by everyone else, regardless of age or achievement. A skateboard is like opening a window into another world full of possibilities, and painting is like creating a flag of your independence. We wanted to open those windows and hang those colorful flags for everyone to see.

Donny Barley, a professional skater from Connecticut, signed on immediately. We got going in 2002. Donny is a close friend and a real man of the people. I can’t give him enough credit for believing in the project and lending his name and legitimacy to the program. The first few years of our existence were localized to small pockets of Los Angeles, and our external output was broadcast online: a website establishing our company and our philosophy. The Land Of Plenty .Org was where I first published articles about skateboarding as a mind body phenomenon, probing spiritual matters as a matter of physical action and creative thinking. Meanwhile Donny started up a summer skate camp for kids, and used the funds to help build skateparks on the East Coast.

By 2005, I had taken down most of the philosophical writing (which would inform the primary content of a book that I have been working on and have yet to publish, and later fragments that evolved into the Advanced Standing columns as seen here in Arthur Magazine), and focused more on the community action aspects of the organization. We had our first fundraiser at Brooklyn Projects skate shop in Los Angeles, had art donated by dozens of pro skaters and artists, alongside boards painted by kids from all over the city, and we got our first press attention and raised some modest funds.

Over the past four years we’ve had numerous art show fundraisers, and have sponsored board painting events and clubs around the world. Cities with LOP programs so far include: Los Angeles, Atwater, Burbank, Pasadena, Santa Ana, Fillmore, Portland, Kansas City, Fort Collins, San Carlos, White River, San Diego, Groton, and others. We’ve gotten skateboards out to over 500 kids. We’ve had dozens of volunteers who have donated hundreds of hours of their time to get the boards out and to organize times and places to get them painted. We’ve gotten donations from Girl/Chocolate skateboards, and our own boards from Generator Distribution. Our international outreach program has started, and we’ve sent complete hand-painted skateboards (and gotten decks painted and sent back in return) from Jamaica, and are working on similar projects in Haiti, Mexico, Japan, and Pakistan. We work closely with Apache Skateboards to get decks to Native American skaters in the South West, and support the yearly Apache Skate Blast in San Carlos. We created a Career Day event to bring Art Students in contact with professional designers in the Skateboard Industry. We sponsor local events, contests, skatepark openings, and art shows. Our goals are to greatly expand our network of skateboard distribution, create limited edition merchandise to generate revenue, apply for private and government grants, and to secure a location in LA where we can build a skateboard facility and create a safe space for kids to skate with pros, learn art and computer skills, and get to participate in the foundation.

We have a team of two pro skaters (Donny Barley and Kenny Hughes), three amateur skaters who have been on the team for several years (Aryeh Kraus, Osmaan Shamsiddeen, and Douglas Miles Jr.), and a group of skaters on flow who represent the Land Of Plenty interns. We’ve got a website up with a blog, a filmmaking division, a collection of hand painted skateboards at our office in the Brewery in Downtown LA, and are fiscally sponsored by Heidi Lemmon’s Skatepark Association International. Through Heidi we have developed a strong relationship with the Venice CDS, a high school for skateboarders, where I teach art class and the students skate every day and participate in various art programs.

The whole thing has been pretty amazing. There has been an ongoing abundance of donations, volunteer work, and the spirit of skateboarding. Our sphere of influence continues to expand, and we always try maintain the ethic that was so special to us in the first place. It’s a simple thing: to skate, to paint, to play an instrument. No one tells you what to do, yet your friends will always encourage you to keep trying, to keep getting up when you fall down, to share in accomplishment and release. When you proceed in a way that resonates with something higher, that allows you to be of service to someone other than yourself, it really does open up a channel of energy that goes upwards, one that might otherwise pull in a negative direction. I feel blessed to have been able to participate in the LOP all these years, and I’ve been able to watch it grow like a garden.

Come help us cultivate the garden. Donate gear, art, money, time, or good thoughts. We are all visitors here, all guests. We are not the source, merely the channels.

Buenaventura: Land Of Plenty Spring 2009 art show and fundraiser is going down Saturday, April 11th at the Red Brick Gallery, 315 E. Main Street in downtown Ventura, CA, from 7pm to 11pm.

We will also be having an open house at the Brewery Artwalk (642 Moulton Ave. W-1, LA, CA 90031) on Saturday and Sunday April 18th and 19th. At both of these events we will be selling donated artwork and products to help raise funds for our summer programming and international board exchange programs.

Thanks for checking us out.

If you are an arteest and would like to contribute, drop me a line at go@thelandofplenty.org

peace

For the past three years I’ve been blessed to travel to the San Carlos Apache Reservation in Arizona to partake in an inspiring and heartfelt expression of skateboard/punk/diy love. The event is the Apache Skate Blast, organized by artist and father Doug Miles, and centers around a skate contest and concert that takes place on family land in the heart of the Reservation.

This year marks the fourth anniversary of the Skate Blast, and as Doug says, “This is going to be special… # “4″ is a very sacred number to Apaches.” If you are anywhere near Arizona (or not, people come from across the country) I strongly suggest you come out for the day and see what it’s all about. A lot of young skaters coming up, good music (JFA has headlined every year), and immersion in a community that just keeps getting stronger and stronger. It’s truly a beautiful thing.

You can see more flyers and get info at myspace.com/apacheskateblast

See you there, warriors

Skateboarders in Poway will have to register and be fingerprinted before using the Skate Park.

The city council voted in favor of the new high tech entry system Tuesday night. Skaters will have to press a thumb pad on a turnstile. If a scanner matches a skateboarder’s print to the one given in a new, free registration process, they’ll be allowed in. A security camera will record the entry.

Full article at MSNBC.

Whenever I’m confronted with this sort of thing, I like to ask myself: would a tennis player suffer the same indignities in pursuit of their recreation?

Or, would I submit my kid to this bullshit? What exactly is to be gained by treating children as untrustworthy, uncontrollable criminals?

It will cost taxpayers 50 grand, by the way.

“Go fuck yourselves, San Diego.” – Ron Burgundy

Years ago I built a 5′ tall, 20′ wide mini-ramp in my backyard. I’d recently moved in with Reza Bahador, my Hapkido instructor, and we were both keen on using our immediate physical surroundings to full capacity, taking advantage of every space to develop ourselves physically and spiritually. Beyond the momentous task of designing and building the structure, which was a challenge and process in itself, the ramp soon became my training ground and my temple, a place for me to clear my mind of confusion and connect to the real world.

When I moved, I broke down the ramp and kept the wood in storage, and in the last few months the Land Of Plenty interns have revitalized the sleeping behemoth out in the mountains of Los Angeles. I am so happy that what might have otherwise been discarded was effectively recycled, and now some other young skaters have the opportunity to enjoy the fruits of their own backyard ramp. In a world of fenced-in skateparks and the ever increasing criminalization of skateboarding in the streets, there is a special magic to containing your own secret skate wave in the privacy of your home base. It’s a place to learn and grow and share.

Arthur readers in particular should be hip to this situation. On one hand, skateboarding is of the world- you can, and should, do it anywhere. Break down the barriers and run wild. On the other hand, it is an opportunity to go inside, to create the most introverted sacred space available and find the silence within. If you are lucky enough to have a yard, use it! A backyard ramp is like a playground set for the spirit. Transitioned walls reverberate a spiritual energy right up into the heavens. You can skate for hours, with your friends and family around, playing music, burning fires, drinking tea and dancing into the night.
This link will take you to a page I created about the LOP ramp development process: taking a look at the space you have available, cultivating a design from your imagination, and then building that imaginary construct with your hands. As with skating, there are no rules, but there are some conventions that tend to result in the most constant and progressive skating: circular transitions, flatbottom, platforms, coping… but anything is possible, using any number of materials, and there is no reason to limit yourself to what has already been done.

I’m currently working on some small, portable ramp designs, and waiting for the universe to land me in a ramp-ready situation again. In the meantime, I hope you can find some inspiration in the LOP ramp, and maybe look at your backyard in a new way. If you don’t skate, don’t worry about it- once you have a ramp, you’ll probably start, and either your kids or the local kids will be able to roll through and show you how to have an endless good time with the simplest things: earth, wood, wind, and fire. Light it up.

-GMS

Real Eyes: What Are We Skating Towards?
by Gregory Shewchuk

“To know the truth of one’s Self as the sole Reality, and to merge and become one with it, is the only true Realization.” – Ramana Maharshi

One indication that I am not quite an enlightened being is my temper—I can get very angry and lose touch with my higher purpose. As much as I enjoy skateboarding, when things are not going well I occasionally lose my shit: throw my board, punch myself, scream at the heavens, and curse myself for even trying to ride the thing. It’s not always fun and games. In addition to the physical challenge, skateboarding can be highly emotional and often takes me to the edge of some very unpleasant feelings: doubt, frustration, depression, seething anger. Yet I keep coming back to my board, to roll around and delve deeper into the process. After 20 years of sidewalk surfing, I’ve started to understand what I am looking for.

I received my first skateboard—a Sims Kamikaze—in third grade in the rapidly developing suburb of Columbia, Maryland. I was a child with a toy. I played on my skateboard, hung out with friends, rode bikes and built ramps and listened to music and played video games. As I entered middle and high school and became more independent and physically capable, skateboarding became more of a lifestyle.

I didn’t fit into any particular mold. I was artistic, but didn’t take art very seriously. I had an intellectual mind, but didn’t care for school. I was athletic, but distanced myself from the organized sports and the jock/coach/spectator mentality. Skateboarding became a way for me to be outside, having fun, while still being creative and independent and curious. I did not like being told what to do and on a skateboard, people kept their distance. Meanwhile I had fun and got exercise and traveled up and down the coast with friends, chasing adventure.

When I left for school in California, skateboarding continued to help me find an identity and establish my priorities. It informed my art, my writing, my taste in music. It helped me meet new friends and get around and stay inspired. I dropped out of school after a year, and then had a horrible car accident. I fractured my skull, had holes drilled in my head, and as a result I had my first spiritual experience. In a hyper-conscious and blissful state, I saw the promised land. I would never be quite the same afterwards.

Eventually I healed and got back into skating. My best friends were skaters, and together we entered the real world and got into business. I chose not to go into the skateboard industry, feeling that I had a more individual path to pursue. I ended up starting an internet company with a skater friend, primarily to make the most of a freeform lifestyle that was not tied to any location or employer. Our goal was fun at any cost. I still felt myself set apart from the social standards. I sought something outside of money and career and relationships, but I wasn’t sure what it was.

I took to booze and drugs, and found myself spiraling towards a self-destructive, nihilistic view of the world. Happy-go-lucky as I may have seemed, I was still a young man foundering in dis-ease, aggression, and frustration. Yet skateboarding was always there for me. It helped me endure, and it provided an outlet. I found it confusing to be a young American from a broken home in a sick society. If nothing else, skateboarding was my connection to an objective reality.

In my mid 20s, bloated and disgusted with myself, I started to change my trajectory. My fascination with Eastern mysticism and martial arts finally took hold with some real practice, and I started connecting the dots between heaven and earth. I made a holy pilgrimage into the ocean and caught some water waves. I started eating organic food, taking herbal medicine, and after 10 years of glasses and contacts, stopped wearing corrective lenses on my eyes. I turned away from the material world and focused on the spiritual meaning in life. I rode around on my skateboard in the middle of the night in Koreatown, New York and Tokyo, seeking answers to the mysteries of the universe, my head spinning with various metaphysical philosophies and magical interpretations.

I had great insights, I really did. I learned about breath, and its relationship to the cosmic dance. I learned about gravity, acceleration, and the energetic similarity to love. I learned about physics, relaxation, balance, awareness, and confidence. Every time I stepped on a skateboard I would have revelations and discern mysterious truths. I got better at skating but I didn’t have any guidance, I didn’t have any grounding. It would take another decade of study, failure, and asking for help for me to cut through the chaos and reach a stable understanding of how things work. I found some mentors and learned some humility, and I learned about myself.

I’m in my 30s now. I have a 12-step sponsor, not a skateboard company sponsor. I do yoga and taiji, pray and meditate. I have gratitude that I am still alive, and I try and share some of the beauty that I have found. I started The Land of Plenty, a skateboard foundation for kids. I think the skateboard is a perfect invention, the quintessence of human achievement. Skateboarding is an American art form, and it has been influenced by the most transcendent acts I have encountered: the surfing of water waves, compassionate relationships, and the study of the self.

Skating is my practice, my discipline. It is a substantial context for the life experience. It is a self-supporting community of artists, engaged in fun, non-violent, zero-emission, independent physical education. And now that I am old and experienced enough to understand the cycles of time, it makes perfect sense as a mind-body, authentic spiritual practice. Every time I return to my skateboard I continue to real-ize: to make real my experience of life.

Bhagavan Das once called India “Dharma Bhumi: the land of religion”, and America “Karma Bhumi: the land of action.” In this land of action, we are called to express ourselves and share our insight. This is my story, and I can’t help but wonder how many other people share a similar path. Reality is here for us to embrace. The wave you choose to ride will not be the same as anyone else’s wave. But if you choose to ride it, you may find what you are looking for, for the truth is nowhere to be found but in your own heart.

The other day in Echo Park I came across a familiar scene: a cop standing over a group of adolescents while his partner ran their background checks. These kids — I’m guessing they were 12 or 13 years old — had climbed a fence into a schoolyard, presumably to ride their skateboards. Now the boards were scattered at their feet and they were face down on the pavement, most likely wondering what the fuck is wrong with this world.

I could relate to the little monsters because, sadly, even as a grown man I find myself hopping fences and skating spots at risk of being caught by actual gun-toting policemen. There’s not many places to skate in a congested city (oh wait, they just had the X-Games downtown, maybe those millions in revenue will trickle their way towards another tiny, over-regulated, overcrowded skatepark in a distant corner of LA) and a schoolyard is a decent place to cruise around in the open air to practice my craft, without worrying about getting hit by a car or endangering pedestrians and business-goers.

So hop and hustle I do, like I have since I was 13, to skate in relative peace until the cavalry rolls through. It’s embarrassing and laughable and scary. And as a taxpaying citizen, concerned as we all are about the state of our union, the conditions of our schools, gang violence, and so on, I can’t help but stagger at this irony that has been perpetuated in every American city for the past 30 years: kids are racking up criminal records, fines, and sentences for BREAKING INTO SCHOOLS TO PURSUE PHYSICAL EDUCATION. Aren’t our children fat and sad enough yet? Are physical challenge and creativity really that threatening to our society?

To understand what makes skateboarding so compelling, so fascinating to the maniacal hoodlums that dwell in every neighborhood from the ghettoes to the hills, you must look beneath the surface and recognize the internal processes at work. Kids are not risking their teeth, wrists, testicles and spinal cords jumping down staircases into traffic because they think it will make their friends like them more. They don’t do it because it’s anti-establishment or high-fashion or some kind of career path towards being a video game soda guy with a TV show. There are better ways of social climbing that don’t involve rolling around in gutters bleeding from the palms as calls of “faggot!” come from passing cars. Skateboarding is hotter than hell and the source of so much expression and inspiration and mind-blowing progression because it consumes the participant in the fire of self-transformation. Kids — humans in general — need to grow, and we do it by sparking the creative energy that resides in our bones. Skateboarding, the unencumbered progressive form, is a vital opportunity to learn.

Generally speaking there are four ways to learn: rote (practice, practice, practice), informal (learning from life experience), formal (teachers, schools, educational systems), and non-formal (organized learning that takes place outside of formal learning systems). It is worth noting that play is categorized as an informal learning technique, regarded as advanced behavior seen only in developed vertebrates with the security for leisure time: big cats, orcas, human beings, etc. For the sake of this argument, we’ll use a Wikipedia definition of play: “behavior which has no particular end in itself, but improves performance in similar situations in the future.”

Skateboarding is largely non-formal learning (bro sessions) with healthy amounts of solitary practice, but at the core most people would consider skateboarding a form of play. Arguably having no particular end in itself—outside of occasional transportation—the question may be asked of skateboarding: what future situations might be affected by improved performance? For unlike tigers and orcas—for whom aggressive, dangerous play might be said to improve hunting or defense skills or other mundane life-sustaining abilities — humans play for potentially transcendent experiences. Learning on a skateboard isn’t just about where to put your feet and how to move your body, but about adjusting and elevating certain mental and emotional behaviors and perceptions. As the basic physical skills are learned, an extremely high level of internal growth can also take place. A skateboard is simultaneously an instrument, a language, and a philosophy, all to be mastered with individual style. Sidewalk surfing is a deep form. It’s fun, seriously.

What transcendent things might you learn on a skateboard? How could this knowledge be applied? Contemplate the following: a skateboarder develops advanced fear management by confronting physical dangers and repeatedly conquering the self-preservation mechanisms of the ego. Skating sharpens physical problem-solving skills: discovering different ways to perceive and navigate obscure geometric spaces, finding efficient lines and opportunities where a lesser adept might see nothing at all. Skateboarders understand gravity and radial acceleration perhaps better than anyone alive. Skateboarders develop balance and awareness. Skateboarding fosters skills of focus, perseverance, independence, patience, visualization, actualization, and commitment. It also worth noting that skating well can improve the ability to shine—that is, to perform unexpected and unprecedented maneuvers, cast in a certain light of style, for others to behold. Skateboarders learn to evolve, and learn to communicate those insights so that others are inspired to evolve as well.

As a successful non-formal learning community, skaters tend to eschew imposed regulations and teaching techniques. Skateboarding is constant independent study, so there is no need for school. How you choose to interact and study and learn the art of skateboarding is up to the individual skater alone. But for the sake of Advanced Standing, where we consider the mind-body continuum as experienced through skateboarding, I would like to address a radical spiritual teaching, a formal learning technique, that might be applicable to the material process of sidewalk surfing: the Buddhist concept of Shoshin—Beginner’s Mind.

If you want a proper introduction to the oft-bandied and greatly misunderstood philosophy of Zen Buddhism, I suggest The Way of Zen by Alan Watts. Let me be very clear about one thing: Buddhism is an ancient religion with a lineage of master teachers who have dedicated their lives to following the Way. It’s not misty platitudes for well-gardened clever types. Like all great religions it’s some real shit and one of the reasons Zen has resonated so strongly with the martial arts in Asia is because it deals directly with life and death, cultivating unwavering attention in every instant. For this reason it is also very appropriate for skateboarding. Consider the following words of Shunryu Suzuki, author of Zen Mind Beginner’s Mind:

“In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, in the expert’s mind there are few.

“… the secret is just to say ‘Yes!’ and jump off from here. Then there is no problem. It means to be yourself, always yourself, without sticking to an old self.

“When you do something, you should burn yourself completely, like a good bonfire, leaving no trace of yourself.”

Most skaters probably have some experience with this freedom—getting so deep into the moment that you are happily lost and everything is possible. It often happens when you learn a new trick, skate a new spot, or skate with someone who pushes you a little further than you think you can go. It’s the thrill of progression, the majesty of participating in an evolving art.
The open-endedness of material skateboarding resonates with spiritual open-mindedness, allowing a flow of unlimited possibility. Are you in? Can you stay open-minded and consciously and compassionately (to yourself, as well as others) practice this technique of no-technique? This is to start learning about something very profound, very deep, very real. This is mind-body technique, a way to learn balance and wisdom.

Plenty of people read and chat about Zen and the Tao (and every other religious/spiritual/scientific philosophy), but how many people live them in motion? How many people put it on the line? Take the opportunity and do this. Go skating, and see if you can engage in an experience without any preconceived ideas. Let go of judgments and attachments. Anticipate nothing. Don’t think about yourself and who you are and how you skate. Be a completely open-minded beginner, drinking in the flow of time. Don’t assign names or values to anything. Don’t trip. Surprise yourself. It doesn’t mean you have to do a switch-hardflip down a 12-stair; it doesn’t have to be a trick, it just has to be fresh.

Learn something new each session. Learn something new with each movement. In that way, you will be reborn with each moment, leaving no trace of your old self.

Students of reality: skate and destroy.

Epilogue: I returned to that schoolyard in Echo Park to try and take a picture of the young skaters getting busted, but they were back on the sidewalk by then. The cops were holding only one of them; he must’ve had a warrant or prior of some sort … maybe writing graffiti or something else equally insidious. I hope those kids learned something from this experience.

“Halfway There”

originally published in Arthur No. 30

Every time I ride a skateboard, I fall over. I slip out, wheel bite, hang up, over rotate, undershoot, overflip, or misstep in one way or another that sends me stumbling, sliding, or crashing to the ground. It’s not that I’m into pain or macho ideas of self-destruction — in fact quite the opposite. I like skateboarding because it is an ideal scenario for testing the limits of control, repeatedly walking a metaphorical tightrope between success and failure. Falling in skateboarding is not a sign of defeat, it is a sign that you are challenging yourself and learning and progressing. The continuous prospect of eating shit on a skateboard helps keep you humble and awake.

Skateboarding is an ongoing exercise in finding balance, using abstract motions to perpetuate the central principle of a perpendicular stance over moving ground. Courting the edge of frictional stability allows the radical insight and expression of the form. Skateboarding is an accessible state of liberation: the hands are free, the feet are not connected to anything, and the skateboard exists between the skater and the solid earth only by careful positioning in the cradle of gravity.

With development and progression of the form come more and more difficult situations in which the skater is challenged to maintain equilibrium in unforgiving environments. Movement is introduced: you learn to push and ride down steeper and steeper inclines. You learn to ride on the front or back wheels (manuals and nose wheelies). You learn to acid drop and land on the board after momentarily floating through the air. You learn ollies and ways to travel greater distances through the air before landing. You learn how to ride circular transitions up to, and beyond, the vertical plane. You learn how to balance in different maneuvers on edges and lips, often themselves curved or steeply inclined. Variations and “tricks” are introduced: riding backwards, the board locked into subtle positions of sliding or grinding, flipping beneath the feet and caught in the air before landing. Maneuvers are done switchstance, developing ambidexterity. Skateboarders go faster and faster and constantly look for new terrain and ways to approach it. There is constant progress and refinement. Edges and possibilities are pushed and validation is immediate and obvious. When you fall, you get up and try again until you ride away on both feet.

Last issue we considered skateboarding as a mind-body practice. I propose that developing balance is the essential goal of any mind-body practice. I would go so far as to say the same thing for spirituality in general, but you can’t really say anything is the “goal” or objective of spirituality because having a goal or objective is more the realm of the material. (Spiritual goals can feed what Chogyam Trungpa calls “spiritual materialism”, an enhancement of the ego that is counter-productive to spiritual wisdom.) Change and movement in the linear, physical world comes down to absolutes: quantities, qualities, achievements. The spiritual path, by contrast, is not a noun, it’s a verb. The goal is not something separate and distinct to be reached, it is internal and ongoing. Spirituality is not about achievements but the progressive means used to deal with material imbalance in a chaotic universe. The intention of Advanced Standing is to understand that finding balance—this supreme life challenge—is both physical and mental, and that the two are equally important and entirely intertwined while skateboarding.

The physical “sense” of balance is called equilibrioception, and along with proprioception (knowing the relative positioning of the body) and the visual system, development of this sense allows you to stand up and walk around and ride skateboards. Equilibrioception occurs through the detection of acceleration by the vestibular system, meaning that balance is found by measuring and responding to movement, which must be associated with a central point- an inertial frame of reference (Galilean Relativity). Call it your center. The human body is bilaterally symmetric (right and left sides), has a distinct front body and back body, and a distinct upper half and lower half which correspond with the 3 axes of physical dimension. Finding balance in physical movement involves constantly returning to the dimensional center: leaning to one side, then leaning back to the other to compensate. The more the inertial frame moves, the more sophisticated the balancing act becomes.

Mental balance is a similar process of contrary action and compromise. The distinct hemispheres of the brain contribute to a singular focus. A balanced mental state is calm, able to find serenity in any situation. It is peaceful. The practice of meditation is meant to develop the ability to still the mind amidst the crashing waves of thought and fear. To this end there are tools: the practice of non-attachment and non-judgment; the use of a mantra or prayer to focus the thoughts and quiet anxiety and pride; the reliance on a teacher or higher power to sustain one’s faith and ability to remain upright. Here the practice of finding balance takes on transcendent possibilities: if balance is about relationships, what could be more profound than developing balance with something bigger than ourselves? That’s the thing about balance: ultimately, it’s only halfway up to you. You handle what is under your control, and the rest is up to whatever you are balancing with.

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Following are five physical ways to further your pursuit of balance on a skateboard, but keep in mind (literally) that there are mental/spiritual components that compliment all of these ideas on a deeper, internal level. Pay attention to your thoughts when you are skateboarding- they reveal what you think you know, and what you are afraid of. If you can’t change your thoughts, how can you learn anything?

First, consider the breath: breathing should be natural and uninhibited, but over the course of our lives we learn unnatural habits of hesitation and restricted breathing. This hesitation, caused by fear and distraction, is the root cause of much of our imbalance. Breath is the most immediate connection between the mind and the body, and deserves continued attention.

Breath is the “trick” to relaxing, the second balancing mechanism to consider. Tense muscles lead to an unyielding frame, and if you are too stiff you’ll never be able to ride waves. Learn to relax by breathing and remember to be loose without collapsing. Find flow. Go surfing. Study the house cat for inspiration.

Relaxation is integrated with the third element, eyesight. The visual system is a primary component of balance, and you need only to try standing on one foot with your eyes closed to get an idea of how vision and balance are related. Healthy vision is relaxed vision, and the habits of hesitation and tension that are reflected in the breath are also reflected in the habits of eyesight. I suggest reading “The Art of Seeing” by Aldous Huxley as an introduction to natural vision understanding and improvement. When you skate, look to the horizon and see how that affects your balance when riding, sliding, landing, and so on. Look where you are going and learn to expand your field of vision.

Then, learn to stabilize the lower body. Build your foundation from the ground up: stand on your skateboard and plant your feet. Spread your toes and feel the four corners of each foot. Bend your knees to lower your center of gravity, without compromising the strength in your legs. Pay attention to which leg is substantial and which is insubstantial (Taiji terminology for which leg is supporting more weight). Your knees should integrate with each other, and your hips should accommodate for a lower posture. Learn the balanced action of opening the hips with tucking the tailbone (Inner and Outer spiral in Anusara Yoga).

Finally, learn to release the upper body. When the legs can support the pelvis, the spine can stretch upward and attain full mobility. The spine, and the core muscles that stabilize it, must be loose and balanced for optimum movement. The spine is erect, the central nervous system is unrestrained, the head and its instruments of balance: the eyes, ears, inner ear- can all work without strain or resistance. The shoulder blades can rest neatly on the back, and the arms are loose to hang to the sides and operate like ballasts. The arms can’t be too tense, they have to flow with the movements. Pay attention to the difference between your leading arm and your trailing arm.

Developing this physical understanding can lead to more profound insight into reality. Modern physics has shown us the nature of the space-time continuum, and we know the fabric of reality is woven inextricably with time. To find balance in time, you must be in the present. If you are consumed by the past, with guilt and remorse and longing, you are imbalanced. If you are consumed by the future, with fear and anxiety and hope, you are imbalanced. Return to the present. Every spiritual heavy will tell you the same thing. Be here now. One day at a time. In the moment. Skateboarding is a blessing in this regard: it absolutely demands attention and presence.

It is said that the universe is expanding, has no center, and no edge. It can also be said that everywhere is the center of the universe. So as you cruise through this life, riding the waves, finding the rhythm, following the middle path, know that there is a genuine stillness inside of you. And when you are riding your skateboard, tumbling and sliding through reality, and you glimpse that eternal stillness and a certain part of you stops moving, you will find that the entire world and the expanse of time is in fact spinning around you. You have found balance. And balance has found you.

Greg Shewchuk is the director of the Land of Plenty Skateboard Foundation. www.thelandofplenty.org

from Arthur Magazine No. 29/May 2008

Anyone who claims to know what skateboarding is “all about” is full of shit. To define it as sport, art, science, transportation, play, culture, lifestyle, or anything else is to minimize the unlimited potential within the form. Skateboarding is inherently meaningless. Its lack of meaning is what allows it to be such a progressive and influential experience.

The origin of skateboarding cannot be localized to any single point. The skateboard was never invented; it was discovered by children across America simultaneously as apple-crate scooters of the 1940s and 50s were broken down and converted into the legendary 2×4″ with roller-skate trucks. Thus, the skateboard has no intention behind it: no inventor, no purpose, no ownership, no goal, no rules. Nothing in the creation or design of the skateboard assumes any meaning or value. It is a perfectly uninhibited vehicle of action-oriented possibility.

As the skateboard was refined with technical advancements (urethane wheels, slight changes in board and truck design) and influenced by surf culture and technique, it evolved and attracted the daredevils and visionaries who crafted the form as we recognize it today. The terrain of streets and sidewalks led to ramps and pools and drainpipes, and eventually begat massive concrete skateparks. Journalists and photographers and filmmakers developed a symbiotic relationship with the athletes, documenting the physical forms and commenting on the culture and surrounding artworks and personalities.

The masters of the form, the leaders and great events of skateboard history, the varied terrain and infrastructure: all of this has been documented and pored over by an appreciating audience. And yet, for all of the journalism and vicarious entertainment that surrounds skateboarding, there’s never really been a deeper examination of the form— specifically the subtle internal and energetic processes—of skateboarding itself.

The technique of actually riding on a skateboard is not that different than standing still. The skateboard is a vehicle, with wheels and axles and a platform to stand upon, but there is no drivetrain. A skateboard moves by the kinetic energy of being pushed, or by taking advantage of its potential energy positioned at the top of a hill or transitional wall. Once the skateboard is up to speed, the majority of the techniques start and end with simply riding along—standing still on the platform of the skateboard, while the world rolls beneath one’s feet, occasionally in excess of 40 miles an hour. In this standing position, the skateboard and rider may cover larger distances, they may roll up and down steep inclines, they may ride up circular transitions above and beyond the vertical axis, they may launch into the air and cover great distances through empty space before returning to solid ground. The skateboarder, more than anything, must shift his or her weight and stance to accommodate these changes in trajectory. The technical aspects of contemporary trick performance include a lot of board flipping and body spinning and sideways sliding and shifting and grinding, but the foundation of riding a skateboard in a casual, two-footed stance remains.
The standing skateboarder experiences dramatic changes in acceleration and frame of reference. Dropping into a ramp or bowl sets the rider off on a path of varying degrees of linear and radial acceleration. Physics students are aware that radial acceleration—the way a skateboarder will circumnavigate a bowled transition, or a planet will orbit a star— results in acceleration towards the center of the curve. This curious feature of Newtonian physics segues neatly into Einstein’s theory of relativity, involving acceleration along the curvature of space-time. Einstein postulated a geometric interpretation of the “force” of gravity, and this revelation completely changed the way we view and understand our world.

This means that the skateboarder, in his ongoing dance with gravity and acceleration, can use the fine instrument of the central nervous system to examine the most dramatic and fundamental forces in the universe. This movement affects physiological change, in the form of blood flow and oxygenation and chemical release and so on, but also affects awareness and psychological change. Finding the center in these dramatic curves, attaining balance in the midst of this tremendous spiraling movement, is as much an internal discipline as an external one.

Over the past ten years I have considered skateboarding in the light of two disciplines which are often grouped together as “mind-body” practices, Taiji (also Taijiquan, T’ai Chi) and Yoga (specifically Hatha Yoga). While the comparisons have been made before, a deeper investigation is overdue. Taiji and Yoga are physical practices with corresponding philosophies that have endured for literally thousands of years, drawing from the sophisticated and profoundly spiritual cultures that spawned them: Taiji evolved with Chinese Taoism, and Yoga evolved with Indian Hinduism and Buddhism. A greatly simplified explanation of their intention is to prepare the human participant for the discipline of deep meditation.

Taiji and Yoga use the body-mind correlation to enhance and actualize the understanding and expression of spiritual connectedness. In Yoga, the intention is to “yoke” or unite with the divine through mental refinement and physical alignment in the flow of universal energy. The intention of Taiji is to follow the way—the Tao—by “uniting heaven and earth”, balancing the opposing forces of the universe internally and externally. The famous “yin yang” symbol is actually called the Taiji—it means supreme ultimate, and is intended to suggest that the universe in its true state is in perfect balance.

Considering skateboarding as a mind-body activity and relating it to Yoga and Taiji can allow insight into the less than obvious internal processes at work. It is not sheer athleticism—strength, endurance, etc.—that make a good skateboarder; a good skateboarder must be a master of balance, focus, perseverance, creative ingenuity, and fear management. It takes heart and vision (and a good sense of humor) to ride a skateboard, not muscle. Cultivation of the heart and vision are among the primary intentions of a traditional mind-body activity, and they do not involve a painstaking enhancement of the ego, but quite the opposite. Skateboarders have as much to learn about the physical aspects of their craft from these ancient disciplines as they do about the internal, mental, and spiritual aspects.

Regardless of whether these systems are studied or adopted by skateboarders, the point is that there is an opening here for some higher purpose. When you are skateboarding, any goals or obligations are self-created. The intention of your skateboard practice is up to you. For someone who has been skating for 20 or 30 years, the reasons for skateboarding have probably changed greatly. What begins as sport, art, play, a job, etc. can become an opportunity to merge a physically balanced form with open-minded spiritual potential. This can take place by studying Yoga or Taiji, or by incorporating another religious philosophy (Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Zen Buddhism, and so on) into the mix. It is certainly not necessary, but the choice is yours.

Whatever you choose, you will not be alone on your path. In 50 years skateboarding has developed into a worldwide culture with millions of participants, growing and evolving at the speed of life, and every flavor of humanity and human achievement is accounted for. This progressive, diverse living community is more available to spiritual development than perhaps any other group of people in the history of the world. In America, where freedom of such pursuit is a constitutional right, we have a unique opportunity to follow our own path and uncover personal insight into the deepest workings of the universe, a balanced experience that might as well take place while standing on a wooden plank with trucks and urethane wheels.

I don’t want to try and define skateboarding, nor do I want to attach any extra importance to it. Its meaninglessness is its ultimate value, and any rewards are up to the invididual to discern. That said, the internal processes of skateboarding are available for anyone at any level to explore—but to do so you will have to see beyond the obvious, and you are well-advised to take a cue from some ancient wisdom. Skateboarding goes deep, and it can be about a lot more than fame or success or being cool; it can quickly transcend any imaginary differences between human souls. Skateboarding is a real, life-long spiritual trip, a profound relationship with a higher power. Skateboarding will require you to open up to the unknown, and confront it without fear or judgment. Then you may bear witness to the freedom within the form.

Greg Shewchuk is the director of the Land of Plenty Skateboard Foundation. www.thelandofplenty.org