Legacy

I've been thinking more the last couple of years about a legacy, and leaving something that exists beyond myself. This has usually manifested itself in creative projects -- songs and stories I want to write that I hope future generations will enjoy. Naturally, this can be a daunting task, as so much content is created every day that really only the best of the best is ever remembered long term, right? And then I thought about the faraway future, hundreds and thousands of years from now...what art from today, this century, this millennia, will even be around anymore? Little to none. The thought brings the whole house of creation down in a lackluster smash of futility.

Is this desire to create for something beyond me even right? I'm sure it's natural, to want to be remembered for something you did, but is it biblical?
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Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Matthew 6:19-21)

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This is our truest calling, right? And what are these treasures but doing good to others, showing the love of God to the world, preaching the gospel, healing, freeing people, making disciples. This is the best thing we can do in this life, and the only thing that really lasts. When this world has crumbled into nothing we can look around and see the folks we brought with us to heaven, not anything we bought or made here on earth. And so an other-centered life becomes our legacy.

But is there a marriage between the two? I feel a desire to be creative and believe it comes from God, acting like him, the ultimate Creator. What if what I create is centered around impacting others, building a foundation of art and truth for the next generation to carry on and continue? I can settle with that, and though I have some projects that are maybe more noble than others in this context, I'll just try to focus on the better ones and finish the selfish art when (if) I have time.

My most recent endeavor: getting this album mixed and mastered.

Still struggling with this concept, but feeling sort of settled, I carried on. But then God threw a curve ball at me by showing me that there is value in creating in this life. There were a few voices that lent itself to this shift in philosophy, though the strongest was a TV series titled American Epic (God speaks through things that aren't "Christian," by the way, in case perhaps you thought otherwise). It chronicles the invention of music recording equipment in the US, and how in the early 1900s, a few music producers traveled the country and held auditions, recording musical acts from all the over country that had never been heard outside of their own communities. The show is filled with artists upon artists that I had never heard of, or maybe just heard the influence of, that greatly shaped American music, and even my own tastes and creativity.

After watching all of this, and listening to a couple other voices, as I mentioned, I felt that God was telling me, "No Rick, what you make does matter." Some of these artists made a little money on the recordings (our typical barometer of success) and then died, never to know that their songs would be discovered for generations after, inspiring new music and new community. They all played a little part in their lifetimes, some having impacted their societies and cultures more than others, but their art lived on and people like me are still affected by it.

I highly recommend checking this out. It is streaming on Amazon now.

Of course this idea of creating for the eventual benefit of others is still central, because these recordings are influential mostly because the hearers are prompted to build community around the music, as well as inspired to create their own art afterwards. So I suppose the conclusion I am coming to (which is really no conclusion, but just a more complete view of the still-blooming image), is that it all matters: the art itself and the people who take it in.

I imagine that it is all one generation building upon the previous, and for the next; countless foundations fashioned on top of each other, branching off and inventing new structures, all leading up to...? God only knows what. And I am thankful that we serve a God who is creative, loves art (just look at nature, or read the poetry and songs in scripture), and seems to encourage his children to do the same.

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Sunset Rekindled

I used to really love surfing where Sunset Blvd and the Pacific Coast Highway meet. It's a great spot with easy breaking waves, free parking and is easily accessible from town (just a mile or two past Santa Monica). You can get that marvelous Malibu rock break without driving an hour to the pier, or beyond, making it one of my favorites in years past.

Though I have often championed the spot, until yesterday, I hadn't surfed there in about five years! The last time I was there was for a failed "sunrise at sunset" surf session we attempted. On that fateful morning, the waves lapped against the rocks at the monstrous height of about twelve inches, so we headed to Dockweiler instead. (I actually wrote about the whole thing in a book chronicling my seven years of falling in love with surfing in Los Angeles. I'm seeking representation/publishing, if you know anyone...wink, wink.) Yesterday I had a couple hours to try and catch a short-term Malibu swell we were getting from Hurricane Rosa, and so I stopped at the first place it looked good, which was Sunset & PCH.

It was like a romance rekindled. The waves were steadily climbing to head-high, and though there were about fifty people in the water, this spot breaks at roughly three locations, so folks can spread out. I guess a lot of beginners surf here too (as I did years ago), because I noticed several surfers weren't catching waves that they probably could have, which left plenty for me! The rides here are long and mellow; because of it, this is the break I learned how to pump a wave, as well as fell in love with the Wavestorm (there were a ton of these boards out yesterday, by the way). I caught several long rides and worked the waves a little, as well as my shoulders, as the paddle-out can tend to be far. It was quite fun, and a nice contrast to my recent hour-long drives up to north Malibu, where I usually come home with only a few waves under my belt (and sometimes fewer).

The whole thing was so wonderful that I felt a sudden urge to thank the ocean as I was navigating the rocky beach back to my car. I prayed a little prayer to God and watched the sunset plummet towards the horizon, casting a golden glow on the breaking waves. It was all very beautiful. But then I almost stepped on a few condom wrappers, some broken glass and several cigarette butts, which brought the whole reality of surfing in the big city back into its proper view. Even that was redeemed on the ride home, however, as I watched the city lights wake up while the sun set, tossing the last beams of the day high upon the mountains that backdrop Los Angeles in that orange-purple that only the West can provide. While driving, I dreamt of creative endeavors, writing this blog post, the future. I guess surfing really is inspiring, but that's for another blog post...

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An Aged Victory

Here is another post on aging and skateboarding. I hope you're not sick of them, but if you are...deal with it (there is one of those perks to getting older).

I recently watched a video on Tony Hawk turning 50, and performing 50 tricks that he either invented or popularized. Here it is, for your viewing pleasure:

The part about this that struck me was when he said he adjusted his skating to keep going. Such a simple concept, but so true, right? If I can't jump down big sets of stairs anymore, but still want to skateboard, find another place to do it. I suppose the first post about this was the baby steps of this transition (though it still didn't end well), and if I'm honest, this has kind of been a long time coming. It is still difficult to see these awesome skate spots and dream up tricks I used to be able to do, and couple probably do again if I wanted to hurt myself, but is that really enjoying the sport, or just prolonging the inevitable?

So today I took the girls to a skatepark I used to frequent when Katie and I first got married. It's fun, with kind of small ramps, and also one of the few wood-based parks in Los Angeles (most of them are concrete). It's in a nice part of town, totally fenced in and I noticed the other day that it opens at 6AM, so I thought it might be a nice park to take the girls to for an early morning session. I was surprised to find four other guys there at 9AM this morning (doesn't anybody work in this town?!), but they were kind of old so I thought they may be sympathetic to a dad trying to get his daughters into skating.

Lunch at the skatepark.

It wasn't too long before another dad showed up with his young son, and then a third! This might be our new park!! Of course, skating with the kids isn't really good, hard skating, as most of the time I am making sure that they are not running into other skaters or trying to do something beyond their abilities; not to mention taking them on my own board for endless runs around the park. But towards the end we all congregated at the miniramp to skate with the "old guys." They were a few guys in their 40s and 50s that stuck pretty exclusively to the halfpipe. They weren't half-bad, and were massively encouraging, especially to me as a dad. It was fun to skate with them while the girls watched, and I actually landed some stuff that was hard for me, notably a few handplants.

Now the main victory in all of this, at least given the context of my skating career lately, is that I was tempted to try some handrail tricks on one of the funboxes. But every time I looked at that rail, my knees ached -- Is my body telling me something, or what? I decided to stick to the ramps, pursuing tricks that would have less impact but still be fun, and guess what? It was! And what could be better than pushing yourself skating while also watching your kids do the same? To seal it off, we went and got delicious donuts on the way home, and now I am here doing another one of my favorite things -- writing about it.

What a day...

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Redemption

Years ago I had a memorable session on Black Friday. It was an unexpected huge day at Dockweiler, with offshore winds that blew back white caps like snow flurries. The water was glassy and it rained, the gentle rolling clouds only adding to the epic waves we were riding. I faced fears that day, though unfortunately, I caved when the big ones came. That session has always stuck out in my mind, and every Black Friday, I find myself wondering if it will ever return. Another epic session, another chance at redemption.

Well, this must be the year, because yesterday, I had one such session. Los Angeles has been mostly flat the last several weeks, but like a Thanksgiving gift, we are receiving a nice little swell, directly hitting the Angelino shores. My brother-in-law was in town, and he is always down for a surf, so I know I had an extra reason to paddle out. (A couple springs ago, while we were in Charleston, SC, he came down to visit and got me out in very cold, sloppy surf for two days in a row...after two early morning shifts at work. He spent some time in Maine surfing, so thick skin in cold water isn't really an issue for him.)

Same spot, smaller day.  Looks similar, but imagine bigger waves.

As the days crept forward, I noticed the surf report improving. And when Black Friday arrived, it was bigger than expected! We ditched our plans for El Porto and opted for the slightly smaller (but far less crowded) Dockweiler, which is my favorite beach anyway. Waves were coming in like steamrollers, breaking in places I've never seen them break before. Smooth and glassy, large and fast. This looked like Black Friday 2013 all over again (minus the clouds, as this was a superb sunny California day).

We suited up and I gave a little impromptu surf lesson to Kevin's girlfriend Allie, hoping she would find something fun on a bigger-than-usual day (she did). Paddling out, there was that all-too-familiar fear that crept up in my belly. These waves were large and steep -- just like the ones I chickened out on that fateful day five years ago. But experience and skill were on my side as I sat and watched a couple roll in (always a wise choice). Before I knew it, one came my way and I made a quick and very steep drop, then rode a little before it dumped. That was it. No big deal.

Taken after the session. Smiles all around.

Steep waves are very intimidating, especially for a beginner, and have kept me off many-a-wave over the years. But as I told Kevin, they ride almost the same. If you ignore the drop and just move and react like you do on any other wave, you will likely ride out just fine. And I did -- redemption!

Wave after wave rolled in, and though they were big fast drops, they were pretty fun. I got a quick little smother of a barrel on one wave, hit a few corners and got some major speed on the good ones. All in all, it was a great session. Good waves, great weather, and overcoming fears. I certainly know what I am thankful for this year.

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Band Aid

My kids really love getting band aids. Maybe it's an art thing, or something sort of elusive but still somewhat attainable, that attracts them to band aids, but the whole thing is kind of ridiculous to me. When we found My Little Pony bandages at the dollar store, it was a practically a race for whoever could get hurt first to claim one. Every "booboo" is a chance, even if it doesn't warrant one, and trust me: most of them don't deserve the prize.

They often come to me with bruises and claim a band aid will make them feel better. Usually I say no, I need to see blood (too morbid?). I should probably just give it to them, but I don't want them to be too sensitive to pain, since they will likely be pro skateboarders, and need to get used to getting hurt. What I end up coming back to is that they should be happy when they don't need a band aid -- it means they didn't get hurt! This doesn't register, and today the band aid dance reminded me of this bible verse:

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Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you, and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of Me. Rejoice and celebrate, because great is your reward in heaven; for in the same way they persecuted the prophets before you. (Matthew 5:11-12)

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This is one of those verses that doesn't really make sense. I'm supposed to be happy when I am insulted and slandered? How about I just sue them instead for defamation of character and then we can let it go? But Jesus says to rejoice, and I think it is because he sees the big picture. We are to think eternally, making these troubles that seem so real and relevant right now merely bumps in the road to our real home, a better place. Not only that, but Jesus says suffering for the right cause and in his name can actually make our lives in this eternal place better! Jesus is asking us to think bigger and see things the way he sees them, which is with an extremely wide perspective. If we do, it will change how we interpret some of the worst parts of life, turning them around completely.

Back to the band aid...I want my kids to see beyond the cool little Twilight Sparkle bandage, and into a healthy, grateful life. Rejoice when you aren't hurt, because a lot of people are. So what if you don't get a cool band aid, or get to stay home and watch TV all day because you are sick? Some people are sick every day and face pain like this all the time. Think bigger, widen your perspective, and your life will be that much more full of gratitude, transforming the bad times into something positively all-encompassing and ultimately, richer.

The faux-band my cousin, sister and I started in high school.

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