Sailing Fiji, Vanuatu and into the unknown

 

Plans made.  Flight purchased.  Butterflies in the stomach.  Excitement in the air.  I'm off to join the Nola for another South Pacific surfing/sailing voyage!  Length of journey and final destination unknown.  The feeling I have right now is as good as it gets... this is what gets me amped, this shit right here, making big life-altering decisions in the blink of an eye, just going for it!  Life is getting shorter every day, gotta take advantage of the time left.

 

A tattoo on my shin says: Abenteuerlust, which, in German, means spirit of adventure, similar to the more common term: Wanderlust, the urge or desire to wander.

This ideology has got it's roots firmly planted in my mind.  I have trouble staying in any one place for long periods of time.  Unsettled restlessness.  My soul needs to see new things, meet new people, just experience newness... and there's a calling for me to be somewhere other than the place I ever am, but at the same time I crave security, organization and a place to call home where I can put down roots.  I enjoy feeling settled... for a while, then I get the itch.  There's always an internal conflict going on.  It's a vicious but enlightening cycle of madness.  The little Devil on one shoulder is yelling at me, saying screw it and go, move, travel, seek, explore, fly by the seat of your pants and create the adventure of your life and never look back.  The little Angel on the other is whispering things about keeping momentum in my career, planning ahead, getting in a comfortable routine and settling down in one spot for more than 6 months.  It's way more fun to listen to the little Devil but as with all things in life, I have realized there has to be a balance.  A Yin and a Yang.  So, I figure I might as well go party with the Devil for a while until the Angel speaks up a bit louder.  But then again... is the Devil really the Angel?

And with a little irony, I leave to join the Nola on the exact same day, one year ago, where I stepped foot back onto good ol' New Zealand soil after being stuck at sea for 20 days in The Crossing from Hell.  And as I write this, a year ago, I was probably saying goodbye to Nola and her crew in Tonga for what I thought might be the last time as I boarded the French vessel bound for NZ.  But... life is full of pleasant surprises.  Nola (and Cloud Break) here I come!!!

CABO SAN LUCAS - Dirty 30 Sanchez!

I sure hope this won't be my last post.  Tomorrow morning a giant posse will board multiple aircraft bound for Cabo San Lucas, Mexico to celebrate three 30th birthdays(Mine included... shit!) and one 31st (Ol' Man Baldwin) during the following 7 days.  I'm scared.  14 or 15 of us all in one little Mexican town with bottomless tequila and swim-up bars, not the best combo. One friend finally decided to come just because he said he couldn't miss my 30th birthday and my death all at the same time. Hmmm... wish me luck, things are pretty much guaranteed to get weird.

And you may ask who the hell is El Miguel?  El Miguel is our mascot/tour guide for the following week of madness.  A drunk and blind Tequila worm, his family brutally murdered and himself left to drown in the bottom of a bottle of Tequila, luckily he was able to drink his way out of it and survive, but it left him with a crazy spiral eye that casts a curse on all those who dare to flip up his patch and stare into it. People have been known to get excruciating headaches from this curse, others have ended up naked in strange places with strange naked people. Go figure.

Aedion Aesthetic kingpin Kevin McNally was able to chat with El Miguel over the phone the other day, here's a partial interview: (The talk ended abruptly when a disagreement broke out between El Miguel and some spike haired, frosted tip, Abercrombie & Fitch wearing spring breakers over a bar tab, sources tell us El Miguel shot all 9 of them on the spot)

KM:
El Miguel, what would you say to the rumors that the tequila worm, is nothing more than a myth.

El Miguel: (In a very Raspy Mexican Accent)
I would say, do I look like a Myth!?! Look at me here, I sit, my eye burned out by fat drunken frat boy in Cancun... Spring break 2007... the last day I see. Removed from my family in Oaxaca and bottled to be sold. You want to talk about a myth. Lets talk about the Female orgasm... now that's a MYTH.

KM:
How old were you when you were taken?

El Miguel:
I must have been 7 or 8 weeks, that's like 27 in human years. They came through our village... pulled up our houses. I tried hard to bit them, but they took me away. Mi familia, I have not seen since. Now I have pistola, and when I find the men who took me. I will find my revenge.

KM:
Where is your family now.

El Miguel:
I do not know. My wife and daughters were most likely killed by Cuervo's Men, however I hope my son lives on.

KM:
You mentioned to me earlier that he had an unusual name and said there was a story behind it?
 
El Miguel:
Yes, yes he was born on the day of Black, the day Johnny Cash died. So in honor of Senior Cash I named him... [long pause].... Que? What the hell this??  They what? Put drinks on MY tab??? PUTOS... [several gun shots, dial tone]

-End of Interview-

Words of Wisdom:

"You didn’t come into this world. You came out of it, like a wave from the ocean. You are not a stranger here." -Alan Watts

Last Ride Illustration :: Surfing Magazine :: Oct 2010

Click for bigger image

Recently did an illustration for Surfing Magazines Last Ride section, October issue.  It's for a little story about the gulf oil spill.  Glad that disgusting thing isn't leaking anymore.  And a thanks to Scott Chenoweth for the art direction.

Words of Wisdom:

"Wandering re-establishes the original harmony which once existed between man and the universe."- Anatole France

I have a feeling I'll be going for another wander very soon... feet are getting a mean itch.  I gotta go......

The Studio

studio |'st(y)oōdēˌō|
noun ( pl. -os)

1. a room where an artist, photographer, sculptor, etc., works.
    • a place where performers, esp. dancers, practice and exercise.
    • a room where musical or sound recordings can be made.
    • a room from which television or radio programs are broadcast,
      or in which they are recorded.
    • a place where movies are made or produced.

ORIGIN early 19th cent.: from Italian, from Latin studium (see study ).

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Studios are just rooms that crave creativity.  I love coming into the studio and looking at the chaos and aftermath of having days and days of pure inspiration. The times when I'm too busy to organize or care.  New paint drips and splatters on tools and tables, pencil shavings, paper scraps, old dried coffee in a cup, saw dust, empty beer bottles, dog-eared magazines, little sketches on random papers, pieces of wood recording the trials of new techniques, and works in progress that will never be anything more than that.  Love it!

Overpopulated

Snapping this shot as I flew into LA this morning, I couldn't help but shake my head in disgust.  There are way too many of us here.  There was a new show, Powering the Future, on the tube the other day.  I was shocked to hear that over 200,000 people are added to this planet EVERY SINGLE DAY.  That's factoring in all the deaths in the world too. Something like 350,000 people are born everyday and 150,000 people die.  We are adding 1,000,000 people to the earth every 5 days!  That is fucking disgusting!  What in the hell are we doing??  We can't even take care of all the ones that are already here and we seem to think it's OK to just keep adding more?   I'm getting neutered!

Show Opening Pictures

Here's a few shots from the opening last Saturday. Thanks to everybody who came out! The show will be up through September 1st so go check it out if you're in the area. All the paintings are on my website HERE. Contact the gallery for availability if your are interested in buying.

50 mixed media prints, 8x10in each.