Well had all these painting of mines on the walls of our living room for the past three decades or so

Seems they multiplied faster these last few years

At the Mrs’ suggestion

Wanted to clear the walls for a spell, didn’t know quite what to do with em all

They kinda personal

Then a beautiful Brazilian architect named Ana knew a guy, worked for a guy –

Another architect named Ben

One with a gallery and community space, out in the Sunset District of San Francisco off the N Judah muni metro line

Called Birdhouse Gallery, at 2548 Judah Street between 30th and 31st Avenue

And they set me up with a show in a place with white walls, proper hangers and the whole deal

I’m still in a state of shock and surprise

Had to get this app called instagram and join the modern generation of addicts to publicize

The show is there till the end of the month or so

If you are in the neighborhood, c’mon by and say hi

Or mark your calendar for the storytelling days on August 23rd and August 28th, 6-9 pm

The first one already passed, it was about snakes

Christian snakes of satan and fallen angels, Chinese snakes of commerce and year of the – , Taiwanese aboriginal snakes of the ancestors, and the Amazonian constrictor snakes that mimic vines and rivers and carry the natives atop the milky way in canoes

Next time will be about birds. Birds of the soaring skies like eagles, and birds of the water like the anhinga and loon. Flights of feathers and spirit across and between borders boundaries and worlds

okey dokey, tchau! See you there!!

https://www.instagram.com/pavotom/

https://www.instagram.com/birdhousegallerysf/

This is a slideshow for the OH56 Machines class offered in the Environmental Horticulture and Floristry Department at City College of San Francisco. After the lecture, we will go out back, stack some firewood, cut some bricks, and knap some obsidian. Something like that. Through trial and error, you will find out that eucalyptus is really hard to split, green or seasoned!

Screenshot

Good surfer

My kid is learning how to surf
In nor central california
The conditions where we live are thus:
Inconsistent beach break
Water is cold
Foggy gray a lot
Crumbly sections
Count on closeouts
Shifty appearances
Wave counts low
Seasonal shortages
Spring and summer onshore winds
Some beginners
Handful of almost pros
Heaps of bodies upon bodies
Speckled black dots and white boards
On a backdrop of brown and blue
It aint no wave pool –
Gentle predictable and clean
Or a tropical long lined dream –
Glassy warm easy take offs
With that crystalline sunlit color
Its not even a steady point break –
With a sloping gradual peel
Nay o nay o
Its about the exact opposite haha
Try to imagine what that looks like haha
Describe the learning process as:
Challenging with minimal short lived hard won rewards

Anyhow
He asked me a question
‘Whats a good surfer?’
Or maybe he said ‘who’s a good surfer’
Cause that is the goal right?
To be good

Whey
Put the mind out to the pasture of ponder
The spectrum is so vast
The consideration, analysis and dissection
What it means to be good
Is it the tricks and number of turns
The size of the wave conquered
Or its inherent dangerous quality you have appeased
Airs launched and noses walked
Seconds of tube ride
Liter globs of fin spray
Radial arc diameter of the cutback in feet
Grace of roundhouse arm waving
Pop pop of the up-down hop
Ability to rip and destroy the wave to shreds
Show her who’s the boss
What is a good surfer?
Hmmmmm

Instead of pointing my kid to the top ten rankings
Or the most sponsored names
You know like scorecard good
Most liked and popular well marketed good
Get every wave good
Look at me good
Youtube click algorithm good
Gonna confine my criteria
Of a good surfer
To folks I know in person
Like know know
By feel, style, observation over time
Seen em in action
In occasional scenarios
Varying circumstances
To my uneducated, lack of judgment, its always 2-3 eye
They all good, but in different ways
Or else they, haha, wouldn’t be out there
The more I think about it
The qualities I most admire in surfers are internal
And not always visible without the magnification of time
Seen from another facet
Its kinda like art or music
Whatever speaks to you and resonates with your sensibilities
Is muy bueno
Here is my very limited and subjective view
Of what and who is a GOOD SURFER

This one kid
Joey Naple
Call him Roo, Kanga
The Boa, the stallion
Aka the Eternal Grom EG
They guy is just so consistently engaged
A total monster
Always out there
Injury or no injury
Huge or little mush
Summer or winter
Swapping out suits for a daily double session
Two or three different boards in the car, just in case…
Ocean beach one day
Surfline says like 8-12 poor with occasional 15
Large swell conference from different directions all converging
The waves’ discussion is of course jumbly and sloppy
cause everyone talking at the same time
Wind on it too
There is nobody in the ocean
Up and down that whole three mile exposed stretch
Nobody zippo zero
Except haha the lonely Roo
And he be catching waves
When I waver
He says ‘when in doubt paddle out’
Haha am I supposed to take him seriously
The shore pound is so barrage the surfboard hits the sand when I duck dive
And the inside curling wall does not relent
There is a massive overlapping white water spreadsheet all columns filled
The current is north south at 300 feet per second
Haha paddle out?!
The other cool thing about the Roo
Is that he is a student of hydrodynamics and board design
If I have questions about this and that shape
So and so brand or a particular fin arrangement
I can always ask him
And receive a considerate thoughtful answer
He understands the interface of the object that sits
Between human and nature
The dynamics of flow
Surfing – he is a frothing, saliva dripping,
Pit rott mix on a hunt for pigs
Waiting for the podenco hound to sound off
Not surfing, he has the demeanor
Of a calm compassionate school teacher
It is the weirdest combination
And kinda frightening
If you ponder the consequences
Or meaning of it
(Luckily I do not)
So that is one good surfer

Another swell rider I met through the Roo
His name is Dean Levy
Dino for short like Barney or t rex
Okay some guys take off on the wave is like this
Just aggro rush for the peak
Arms flailing fast
Paddle maybe criss cross right in front of you they don’t care
Legs kicking for that extra boost
You can see it in their face
Says its mine all mine everything is mine
All power no grace no give just take
Well Dino is a 360 from that orientation
On the take off he is very very quiet
Like when you close the door turn the doorknob quiet
Roll your feet when you walk tip toe quiet
A shadow withdrawing into the shade still
Kitten soft
Petting a lamb suave
Effortless timing cosmic convergence gentle
Very sick to witness
But wait, its not over yet
Sometimes he does no bottom turn
Eery subtle launch super smooth
One stitch into the next
Threading the needle
Coming up through the fabric zig zag
He goes
Then disappears into the hollow
For a long time before coming out
Like, no way he pulled that off
And after exiting
he is not like shaking his fist thumping his chest claiming
He just paddles out for more
Like after you wipe your ass or have a sip of coffee
Like absolutely nothing happened
Me im double taking like this is normal?
Shaking head incredulous
This is OB eh? Its not easy to get those…
Part of Dinos steadiness
We attribute to his micro hog stature
Low center of gravity and bottom leverage
Hard to explain
Although in surfing you are really just on the surface of the wave
Bobbing up and down with the energy flux
Dino mindset swirls from a profound depth
Oceanic water molecules and body fluids
All harmonized at the same frequency
There is definitely more to it
I just cant figure it out
Is alright
Dino is a good surfer

Bundled along with Roo and Dino is another feller
His name is Colin Horn
So I ask him
Whats your style
What your favorite moves
Why do you like surfing
Questions like this
All he coughs up is this
Sorta wry don’t know nothing smile
Eyebrow tilt, upturned shoulders
Palms open to the sky quizzical look
Like he really not sure what he is doing out at OB
So I point at the picture of mr Horn
On a 9 6 gun on a 20 foot wave at OB
Sliding down on a right hand face
Thats you right? What do you have to say for yourself?
What do you mean you are ???
But nothing, that same ho hum huh questioning eye
Head cocked to the side lips pursed
‘I’m not that good; I just go straight’
What?! Speak up boy!
Still nothing
Hilarious
He has this
Persistent
Patient
Manner through difficult stretches of sea is how I call it
Just
Keep
Going
Guess it comes from being a swimmer doing laps
Or from caring for others like a nurse does day after day
A very good surfer
Almost a bit too humble and self conscious
If that is possible
But thats okay
Since that leads to reflection
So in addition to the waves
He catches those sunlit rays that bounce off the peaks
In the morning light
And makes em into woodblock prints

The grand daddy who introduced me to this OB crew
Is a medium sized carnivore
His name is Lucas Wiley
Some kinda beep beep harhar Wiley coyote
Of the cartoons
Cept he aint no abuelo, nor a true canine
More a young upstart kid from so cal
I only surfed with him a few times though
A bit at OB, once in Santa Cruz
One day was crap windy at pacheco or lawton
He drifted one way down the beach and I the other
The other day was packed pleasure point
He was out on a rainbow Costco soft top snagging em away from the locals
Only detail I remember was that he has a big smile when he catches the wave
All teeth showing, incisors molars the whole mouth
That sort of elation that looks like he just won a million dollars
Or the moment after a lion downs the gazelle
Blood dripping off canines
Belly not yet full, but the hunt a success
Rather than being on some african plain though
He is in the midst of a watery slope
Echoing laughter
A good surfer

This one dude I surfed with quite a bit
From the piers at la jolla shores to the taco shacks by rosarito
He is the papi named Bruce Barbarasch
Barby, Barber Rash, Barbin Skate, Ecurb for short
Like many skaters turned surfers he has impeccable balance
He carves waves in the same manner as a huge bowl or a smooth pool
Not really tricked out,
Just a consistent gale force
But more than that
He actually looks like he is having fun surfing
He not real overt about it, not like an idiot with a big grin haha
When he hits the lip, the uncurling part of the wave
Its a matched – lets play cards back and forth encounter
He not angry about it
Nor computer machine like either, all routine and calculated
His manner of surfing
To describe it
Is very human I suppose is the word
He bubbles with excitement about being in the sea
Kettle boiling water at the cusp when it starts to chuggle bit of a smile
Maybe its the sight of the next set rolling in
Or another rise on the gravely slope on the way through a valley of doug firs
Its that same face of inner amusement
Kinda weird I even have to mention this
Its just that most of the folks surfing out there
Take it really way too seriously
They bring the baggage of town to the openness of the sea
And they bring all of corporate and tribal frenzy with them –
Its limited resources, must compete!
You in my way, get outa here ya kook!
I’m the top dog, get every wave
And so on and so forth
So tiring you can feel the frustration and neediness emanating forth
Not sure what happened to that sharing aloha spirit
Mother Nature generosity
Happy gush of that sliding down that first wave
Well Brucey has that gift of appreciating
Don Barbarasch, el señor del mar
Momentarily, think Brucey swapped out surfing for sailing and bicycling
Oh well, he is still a good surfer based on past episodes
Once a surfer, forever a surfer
For sure I know that she (the mother ocean) misses him too

Its been a long time I’ve seen this one guy out in the water
His name is Chris Coggan
But I know he a good surfer
From the pictures I’ve seen
The tales he tells
And the ripped physique even as a middle aged retiree haha
Well when I surfed with him on a regular basis
He was a body boarder
North peak at Blacks
He was charging half knee up, barreling
Flying off the top loopity loop stuff
In general,
The boogie board riders are kinda denigrated, probably still this way
Call em speed bumps, hazards, squishy lumps and so on
Like you are somehow less of a man for staying so close to the zone
And laying down flat, not being upright
I like the variety of surfing styles
Especially seeing how I myself like to body surf time to time
And the body is even lower on the carved totem pole
Than a hunk of foam
Anyhow, Chris he switched stance sometime soon thereafter
And stood up
I can only dream of following him on his global surfing adventures
Kid got crazy stoke
And a tongue and songs to match hehe
The particular quality that makes him good
Is that thing that probably irritates school teachers to no end
That ADHD ability to suck in the universe and spit it out transformed
Being an infinitely wound music box mechanism
Just stop!!!!
But he cant help himself haha

If you say ‘good surfer’
I say
Steve Yamamoto
Ya gotta have a look at this dude
Would like to pat this one down
He a racing dog
Whippet or greyhound
Where you can see the ribs and lungs
Bellowing cardio fitness
Shoot and the mus!
We have never wrestled before
Would like to but kinda scared cause he is of Japanese ancestry
And you know the Japanese
They skilled ninjas and samurais and judokas and sumo and all that intimidating biz
Back to the mus
Imagine like beef jerky kinda red brown fibers
Not dried up
Tough well worked and honed strip bundles
Throughout the whole system
And a trotting, oh hee hee, running gait
Like a happy puppy fluffing along
He is an example of a person who is –
Durable and staminaceous
Small machined endurocapacitor bountiful with longevitality
Comparatively speaking, he is an elder in the surfing community
He got white hair! The whole head!
Im like what up with this dude
Why you not in the tub soaking
Or on a cruise ship sipping cocktails in the lounge
With a green jacket and yellow cummerbund listening to Sinatra
Why you are not taking strolls on the deck
Or sitting on a park bench feeding pigeons reveling in memories of yesteryear
Why you out in the cold cold sea streaking cross faces
With that ferocity
He buzz you like a twenty year old
Lean like a twelve year old
Smile like he still a baby
Except for pictures, where he looks shocked and in the lineup
A criminal lineup
Not a surfing lineup
He is improving with age on that note though
Maybe he let go
Some of that tensed lip
And relaxed the eye lids a tad,
But don’t fall asleep! Gramps!!
Stevie hooked into something
Perhaps has something to do with being a knee boarder
Always getting barrels
Did I mention that?
Some young folks don’t even know what that is around here
Like its a rare or never contacted species – knee boarding
Okay its where you wear fins, like a diver or a sponger
And get up half way, on your knees, on the board
Not standing
The same posture as when you bowing thank you on a tatami mat to the sensei
Or sitting on the floor of a Korean restaurant
Eating a myriad of dishes like kimchi, pickles and tofu chunks
On your knees!
Again, some folks whining or complaining
Its not fair, its not really surfing, half men half women whatever
Are these commenter people even out there on a medium sized day?
Why they even care
Just try it one day, you might even like it
You try to generate speed in a squat scrunched over!
Yup ol Yams
He is a good surfer

Lastly we have mr
David Margulies
Bros
This guy is like the three headed dog that guards hell
The cyclops
And the hydra kraken
All rolled into one
Very hungry
Waits at the edge
Sits deep
Eyes alert
Spin on an atom
Takes the
Biggest set wave
Pipes
The definition of charge
Very simple
If I write more
Kinda spooked I would actually diminish the accomplishment and training it requires
To do what Margie does
So I will end here then
My list of good surfers
I have the honor and pleasure of knowing

In summary then, for me
Some characteristics of a good surfer are:
Consistency and enthusiasm
Grace and flow
Stamina and persistence through dense heavy waters
Humor, happiness and mischief
Good timing and the ability to do magic tricks
Eye for the waves way outside
And the matador courage to charge ‘em

Good luck and the biggest hoots
To all ye young and upcoming surfers
May you enjoy surfing as much as these folks do
Full of ups and downs
Peaks and troughs
Nasal drip and bony ear growths
Clammy wetsuit
Sandy floor board
Car warmed towel
And camaraderie with huevos rancheros
Sea birds
Marine mammals

Its a lifetime relationship
Love and commitment
With our mami mommy mamacita muyyy guapa
The sea

This slideshow takes us from the farms then matorral of southern Spain to the nurseries and ornamental gardens of California. We are focussed on two species of lavender – Lavandula pinnata and Lavandula multifida. Along the way we encounter taxonomic confusion and mish mash, botanical verbiage, and reach a somewhat satisfactory ending.

Imagine that by the time this story jangled down to me

It had passed through multiple variations and generations

I picked out a few choice morsels of ridges and hill tops

To paint on a piece of of plywood

To satisfy my hunger pangs 

For the spirits of the rocky plains

Through the foggy windshield 

This is is what I could see

Of a Blackfeet myth and dream

About a meeting with 

The Lord of the Northern Skies

There was roaring drumbeat of hooves

Dust and a stampede

And bison jettisoned over cliffs to embrace the earth mama

A band of natives

With ground and scraped hatchets and knives

Taking the scene apart

Slivers along the skin and fascia sheath

Slits across the lines of tendons

Pops and cracks next to the rounded cartilage

Lathering in the puddling blood

Done well

There was enough goodness here

To last through the winter

All in all

It was a lot of carcasses

To process

The sky fell then rose again

Stars unveiled their brilliant finery

Several times

Still folks were at it

Slicing the animals apart

Chatting and laughing

Re living the hunt

Chewing bits of livers and loins

Reassembling it into food and clothing

It was late now

Without much warning

The winds with the pointed daggers descended

And a swirling snow storm blinded and smothered the band

No time to run

Nowhere to go

Stay put

A father and son sought shelter beneath a still warm bison hide

Praying for safety and protection

Under the makeshift shelter

The stored heat slowly faded

Liquid congealed into sticky curds and cold pastes

Frosty air snuck in the uneven folds

Chilling nose and fingers 

Hardening wet skins and toes

Tightening that cavity round the ribs and chest

Death seemed imminent

Consciousness swirled and began to drown in white powder

The father and son

Belonged to the otter clan

In their final dizzying bewildered moments

Their minds flashed fish scales and clear rivers 

Crayfish tucked in hideouts along the banks

And rainbow droplets jumping off the falls

White out 

Black out 

Fade out

When they awoke

Wasn’t sure 

if it had all been a dream

The herd of bison, the slaughter, the butchering

Or, if they had parted ways with their nerves muscles brains and bones

And had arrived in the world above the sky

Before them was a gold lit teepee 

With thunderbird feet and talons

The teepee’s skirt was icy pokers

And stars circled in the upper canopies

Right above the entrance

Was a grand and ancient red bison head

With yellow horns that had clobbered many a foe

Its tail in the back 

Swished taut against 

The disc rays of the sun

Crow feathered bells

Chimed for the day of reckoning

The otter pair hollered greetings

And decided to go inside

Have a look

A blazing fire rang within

Heat rose up and danced in flickers

As blackening wood shed ash flakes

Around the beguiled hearth

The black shadows were full of chatter 

Caw caw caw 

Ha ha ha

Caw caw

Hee haw hee haw

The bells were deafening  

The Lord of the Northern Sky rose up from his smoke

He was dressed with garments of snow

On his breast he wore a tobacco pouch of mink

And otter pelts patterned his belt

In his right hand was branches of juniper 

Ready to sacrifice themselves to the flames

In his left hand the black pipe was praying to the clouds

The Lord welcomed the hunters

Bade them to sit down

Make themselves comfortable

And relax a spell

While the storm paused to have a bowl of stew

And the drifts sashayed and settled into 

A comforter for the earth mother

Otter man and his son

Were surprised 

Elated

Joyful

Shocked

Awed

In summary

Cut up and swollen beyond recognition

By everything they had encountered 

They quickly pulled up an offering

A six pound bison heart

A little bit on the cool side

But still beating with a very distant thumpity bump

The Lord of the Northern Skies

Received the gift with gratitude

And began to sing of pain and sorrow

And of tears fears and years

With that

There was a thunderous clapping flash o lightning

The explosion crept up slowly in the back of the throat

Ran zig zag kazam down the esophagus

Billowed chunks out of the lungs

And heaved the stomach into a galactic sized churning tsunami

And by the time the intestines were involved

It was all light and shock

Dust and faded memories 

And Father Otter and his son

Were back on the plains

With the family

Sharpening edges and points

Plunging into flesh

Carving the soft parts away from the hard

And hanging meat to dry 

In the mid day sun