Because it’s the end of the year, I spent most of yesterday working on my model, and then had Bernie’s closing last night;
I didn’t have much time to write a proper post. Instead, just like everybody does, I will conclude 2016 with a selection of what I feel to be the years most whatever offerings from the AHTBM Instant Graham.
Can you taste the excitement?
Starting somewhere in the middle, we have the following;
After two months, I’ve finally returned to the scene where I lacerated the fucking shit out of my right calf and I do believe I’ve found the culprit what cut me so. I’m pleased as punch to find this and not a broken 40 bottle full of junkie rigs and bum shit, which was the other thing I thought it mighta been.
You know why Sophie’s pants are all worn out like that? Because she listens to a lot of Iron Maiden. (‘Iron Maiden’, and ‘Killers’ naturally, because she knows the only real Maiden albums are the ones on which Paul Di’Anno sang), and when listening to a song like ‘Running Free’, how are you not going to air drum the shit out of your thighs in time with Clive Burr’s rhythmic fury? Seriously. If you disagree, then you probably think Van Halen existed after 1984, both the album and the year. Anyway, she and Sean from @vynlbikes came over yesterday and I have some photos of a couple of their whips up on the AHTBM website today. They’ll make you feel pretty good. Not as good as the timeless badassness of ‘Wrathchild’, but pretty good nonetheless.
When life gives you lemons, hide them in your friend's aunt and uncle's backyard until night time, and throw them at passing cars, which is hilarious until a silver Buick full of the biggest, scariest cholos you've ever seen stops, and you're too scared to run because you're only 14 years old, and you think you're gonna get beat up but one of them just squeezes a lemon on your head before they all get back in the car and drive away. Anyway, my own version of the 2016 @paulcomponent press camp is up on the site now, and contains two photos of cats and one photo of a flower, because I'm in touch with my inner sensiteevo. Link in the bio.
Step eleven in reclaiming one’s sanity- Find a quiet place where you can be alone and focus on your pulse. Think about what it means to be alive and while all of the banal bullshit of the day to day doesn’t matter, it still does, because that’s a part of being a human animal. Think about the way your dog or cat smells, or the sound of your kid’s voice. Think about the last conversation you had with somebody you loved before they died. Talk to your parents, or your grandparents. Breathe deeply, and make a commitment to be a better person. Or to eat more bacon. Or to make a tape recording of all of your farts for a year. Or whatever. I don’t give a shit. It’s your life. Reclaim your sanity how you gotta.
Hey Lexi- good job on a super lovely wedding, having a kick ass family, and being an astounding looking bride. Hey Joe- good job on not dying that one time so you could actually be here to enjoy it. Congratulations to you both. The rough road it took to get here made it all the more beautiful an experience. #Jexiwedding
Just as we reached cruising altitude my left ear made a popping sound and out of it poured a pretty fair amount of fluid. At first I panicked assuming it was blood, but it turned out to be just water or the antibiotic drops. I was so distracted by the sensation that I totally destroyed another drawing. #PlaneTimeKiller
A much better photo of these two fellas from this past Sunday. When I was a wee lad of seventeen, they epitomized Northern California skateboarding. They came from two different regions, and had two different styles, but to my mind, were cut from a very similar cloth. Despite the aforementioned slam on the beer bottle, resulting in an ass-sized hematoma the size of my ass, I’m still flying high from getting to spend the afternoon goofing around with two individuals who have helped inspire me to charge for well over half of my existence on this blue marble. And to think- all of the fun was had in an overlooked, and otherwise ignored corner of a parking lot. Aside from maybe stumbling across an abandoned briefcase full of money, it couldn’t have been a better day. #Thankyouskateboarding #RickyWinsor
When I was twenty three I took my last $500.00 and boarded an October flight to Frankfurt, Germany. For three months I toured skateparks around Europe, looked at art, drew in my sketchbook, and spent a fair share of my time there sleeping in bushes, or on trains. Eventually, as I made a pilgrimage to Egon Schiele’s hometown of Tulln, Austria, I spent a day in Innsbruck. Wandering around aimlessly, I stopped into a shop to steal a toothbrush, and that’s where I came across this postcard of a painting called ‘Aquarell’ by Horst Janssen. I bought the card, stole the toothbrush, and realized I’d tracked dog shit into the store. One day I will return to Innsbruck and make amends for my youthful transgressions. Also, I expect this image to get flagged within minutes for a host of reasons, but mostly because art is scary.
That said, I’m more than a bit freaked out by the immediate future. I loathe what is happening in our government and by extension across the world both politically, socially, and environmentally with every fiber of my being, but as I’ve declared a number of times in recent days, and a thing which I think is worth repeating, is I have to remain hopeful, because without that, I have nothing.