so i’ve realized that the three main activities i’m
almost entirely and exclusively engaged in (studio work, climbing, and slinging
food and booze at pappy’s) all require not just functional, but strong and
agile, use of my hands.
oh, and eating.
obviously.
well, these things all went to hell last weekend when i
decided to climb with abandon until the tips of my fingers had lost feeling
entirely, and were pooling swollen reserves of blood like miniature oil leaks beneath
the skin’s shredded surface.
not to mention last saturday night at pappy’s we had 4
bands play – including brett from the donnas (who’s a popular one around here)
– which means that the place was so full of people that getting to one of my
tables took 18 times as long as normal.
at least. this is
especially fun when you play the game that i usually do, which involves
carrying hot plates without towels just because you feel like dealing with the
challenge of getting to the table alive.
this game is not really fun at all and borderline idiotic, but add a
room full of pioneertown drinkers, and you’ve really quickly got yourself some
burned fingertips and wrists.
my solution?
further the abuse.
go climbing. all day sunday.
(note that this sunday, i am sitting quietly in a coffee
shop, typing to you all).
but don’t pick some of the nice, sunny warm spots in the
park... instead, go to an obscure pinnacle in a shaded, wind-tunnel of the
park. it was todd’s idea at
least. so of course i was going
along. the pinnacle is called
the tusk, and it was only recently discovered, with 5 different routes bolted up
its modest sides. it was so cold
that before i even got on the rock, my hands were completely numb. and the rock felt like ice. this quickly turns a 5.8 route into a
5.10, and makes a 5.11 route impossible unless you want to break your fingers
off completely. at least that’s
what tucker said, pictured here grinning behind his hoodie, to explain why he wasn’t
going to climb at all, and was just going to drink beer. he refuses to ever climb a route twice,
and since he has done more routes in josh than anyone (literally, a fact. he also has the most in yosemite), he doesn’t have a lot of
options left. the 5.11 route was
the only one he hadn’t already bagged, but on this blistery day, it wasn’t
going to happen. so a few of us
scaled the other routes, moving as quickly as possible to keep the adrenaline
pushing us upwards before we had time to think about the pain in our
hands. actually, the worst part
was coming off the rock. “the
thaw” period was enough to make me curse all things human and inhuman for a
couple minutes straight…. and then swear i wouldn’t do another route all day.
that is, until 15 minutes had passed and i’d forgotten
what the pain had felt like (the beauty of a shitty memory).
to cap off the day, three of us did sneak over to a warm
and sunny area in the park and wrestle with what turned out to be three of the
coolest routes i’ve done yet. they
looked like nothing special, but forced you to really think… hard… with your
body and with your senses, and to be inventive in ways that seemed impossible
in the moment, and left you dizzy and grinning when you finished. i think there was one time i made 5 or
6 moves, multiple feet up and to my left, just in order to get back down where
i started with my hands in the opposite orientation. needless to say, my fingers hurt to the point of near-tears,
and on the two harder routes i left a blood trail the entire….. entire… way up. (thankfully the life/death immediacy of climbing itself
trumps my otherwise debilitating tendency to faint at the sight of blood).
but speaking of dizzy and grinning…
on monday night, i had one of the best experiences yet since
i’ve been here…
the moon was full.
i’d been talking about wanting to climb a famous
pinnacle in the park, called the headstone (pictured here in daylight, thanks
to climbing magazine), under a full moon.
the plan was originally to do it on new years eve, but we only had a
piece of the moon, and there was no way i was getting out of my shift at
pappy’s.
photo copyright of michael clark
the next full moon fell on monday. luckily the wind had died down since the
day before, and it was a clear night.
the moon rose big at about 5:45pm, and was gorgeous. i threw on some layers, grabbed my
headlamp, and headed into the park with my friend matt, who had agreed to join
(and lead the route). we waited
until the moon was high, parked at a nearby campsite, hiked in, and scrambled
up boulders until the silhouette of the headstone rose upwards at our
feet. it was an adrenaline rush
just shining my headlamp on it. we
ended up climbing two different routes, up two of the corners… both hanging out
over total blackness. one includes
a “handrail” at the end, requiring you to make a few good arm-lunge moves on an
overhang without any feet, whole body dangling over the edge.
man… i can’t type words for that feeling.
neither were very difficult routes overall, but being high
up on a giant corner, where it drops straight off from either side of you, not
to mention being surrounded by full darkness, brought it to a whole different
level. the first time matt
rappelled from the top, i stayed a bit longer by myself… staring out over the
moonlit park, a couple smoky campfires in the distance, and coyotes howling
from the west. been thinking back
on that moment all week. it took
me a good while to snap out of it… but finally i heard matt’s voice from down
below, repeating, “alley!! i said…
i’m off!!” i pulled myself
together, rappelled down, and gathered up all my gear for the hike out.
what a way to start out a week.
that, and getting to share a phenomenal meal with steve
and ruth, and their friends danny & claudia, last sunday night. they cooked up elk… yes, elk… brown
animal, big antlers, makes bugling sounds…..
both a stew and some long ribs done on the grill alongside some
clunkier-looking beef ones. ruth
made a BBQ sauce that put pappy’s to serious shame (there was cumin involved),
and claudia brought a thin sauce she made out of pomegranates, dried cherries
and rosemary. put rosemary in
anything and i’ll get down on my knees, but man, this was an especially perfect
match for the hearty, woodsy elk meat.
and it was essentially brown on brown (the best combo). throw in sautéed bok choy, and
asparagus, and turnips, and rosemary grilled yams…and i was grinning from ear
to ear. an old vintage tablecloth
and ruth’s homemade dishes made the whole thing too good. and that was not even counting steve’s
margaritas or ruth’s lemon flan!
sure haven’t had the motivation to cook like that just
for myself in the cabin!! it was a
treat, times ten.
and as for the real reason i’m here….. it has certainly
been an interesting week in the studio.
we finally finished the hummingbird piece, and got it installed outdoors
to see it really come to life against the landscape. i guess it is technically third generation in steve’s
“rising sun” kinetics… the raven piece i loved and posted photos of a while back
was the second generation. and now
we’re well into the fourth generation piece. it has been a much windier road than the first piece…. but i
think it’s truly been the beauty (and legitimate thrill) of the artistic
process at work. steve feels very
strongly about not wanting to just essentially repeat the same piece over
again, even though, in this case, they’ve clearly been a success (these past
two “rising sun” pieces have sold just after, or even before, they were
finished). but mass producing, or
even just replicating, would take literally all
the fun out of the process. and
there would be no fulfillment or satisfaction at all in the end result, if
there weren’t a progression in concepts, ideas, and components worked into each
piece.
so the question is how to continue along this general
theme, how to make a piece that is visually stunning, but also is pushing new
boundaries… conceptually, artistically, technically… each time. observing the progression in pieces
(good and bad, intentional and unintentional) from the first one, to the
current project, has been totally fascinating.
this newest piece has had the added challenge of looking
way too good when it started. we
have a mast that is….well… it’s badass.
i feel okay saying that… cause it is. but that means it’s really hard to start with and build off
of, because you’re too conscious of the potential to ruin it. this hesitation, or second guessing,
despite taking longer, has actually forced out some really interesting ideas
& processes. there were whole
days where we pursued a new and exciting idea, only to scrap it all by the end
of the afternoon when we finally saw it in physical form. i think there were at least 5, going on
8, different ideas for the two stainless forms, when thursday afternoon we
strolled into the boneyard and steve stumbled upon a piece (until then it had
just been scrap) that not only answered all our questions, but provided
brilliant potential for this concept moving forward.
there’s no better definition of process-driven work… and
i can’t possibly describe how fulfilling it is to be challenged, to be
enthralled, to be constantly learning and constantly surprised every step of
the way.
i fucking love it.
sorry for the language.
and getting to absorb steve’s energy and attitude
towards it all is incredible. there’s
always a new idea, there’s always something to work on if one thing’s feeling
stuck… and from stunning success to embarrassing mistakes… none of it seems to
be a waste of time. inspiration comes from paying such thoughtful attention to everything in the
world around you… whether it be the momentary texture of a landscape, a simple
comment quoted in the newspaper, the choice
you just made about which tool to
use, the choice made 15 years ago about the subject of a painting, an entire lifetime’s achievement (the filmmaker
terrence malick has been the subject of numerous conversations lately…. and for
good reason), or a single sketch discarded as a failure years ago, but kept.
a while back steve described his idea to utilize the
power of negative space by comparing it to the way an author discusses one
thing in depth, in order to actually focus your attention on something
else. he said at the time, “people
think i’m crazy when i say it, but i learn from the authors”. after numerous (but never enough)
discussions on the artistic process, the techniques, the beliefs, the different
approaches… it couldn’t be a more accurate way to explain how brilliance comes
from recognizing the parallels, and allowing a constant awareness, questioning,
and participation in one’s self and the world to so vibrantly inform one’s
work.
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