I’m adding to the last post rather than producing a new one. The main reason is the LINK to the documentary: There have been issues. Sometimes the original link connected; sometimes not. It is important to me, with the work ANNIE FERGERSON put into it, that she gets some of that internet traffic. NO, it’s not about me. Not just me. I had my daughter, Dru, add another link as a backup.
STILL, even when I checked it, sometimes it worked, sometimes
ABOUT HALF of the latest shirts are gone; some sold, a few given away. Funny how we owe our friends stuff. WHILE I am working on how to market anything I do; art, writing; I’m pushing a project I couldn’t get done before the recent event. I’m going to have some shirts with full color graphics. It isn’t as easy as I had hoped. There is a modern incarnation of ‘iron on’ graphics that are just SO MUCH better. DWAYNE at D&L LOGOS in Port Townsend is ‘cleaning up’ the artwork. This includes tightening the borders because white would be printed along with all the colors. Dwayne is also going in to add some opacity to the inconsistent colored pencil work. IF I CAN do the transfer myself, I might get more images and then, you know, wait and see who wants one, how I might sell them
MARKETING, not my strong suit. HOWEVER, Original Erwin products are always LIMITED EDITION.
I’M WAITING to hear back. The COST at which I can offer the shirts is determined by how many images can fit onto a roll of, I don’t know, some sort of material. The printed images will then be transferred by some heat process (maybe an iron) onto shirts. BECAUSE I have to put out all the money up front, I am purposefully limiting the number of shirts produced. IF I CAN figure out a way to sell them myself, rather than going through a vendor who would, and should, and must add something on to the price, I WILL.
BACK TO THE POST-
The world premiere of the film by ANNIE FERGERSON, with additional footage by NICOLAI CRANE, received an enthusiastic response from the audience at the recent FOURTH OCCASIONAL SURF CULTURE ON THE STRAIT OF JUAN DE FUCA AND THE SALISH SEA EVENT.
EDIT- There seems to be a problem with a longer link. So, deleted.
AGAIN, the project was pushed by Annie, AND, any cicks on the link (above) go to her. There is general agreement that the film was very well put together; it’s the choice of subject that has been quesioned. STILL, I appreciate it and have to agree that it pretty much captures me in all my ridiculousness.
ALL THE PRESENTERS, and it was an eclectic group, were well received: GREG TINDAL did a very dramatic and impressive recitation of a short story; DREW KAMPION told a story about not getting shot while getting too close to Richard Nixon; TIM NOLAN gave a sneak peak into his memoir of surfing in the Palos Verdes area; DANA TERILL described several encounters with the legendary Miki Dora; RICO MOORE recited an original poem.
The attendees had the opportunity to check out surf and ocean-centric art works by NAM SIU, STEPHEN R. DAVIS, TIM NOLAN, JOHN HOLM (who does now live in Port Townsend), and, yeah, my stuff, including my now-more-limited edition tht shirts.
Curator of the event, Port Townsend Public Library maestro KEITH DARROCK and I were so busy greeting surfers we hadn’t seen in a while that neither of us took any photos. My daughter, Drucilla, did; as well as making lanyards for the presenters. Laminated and everything! And everyone loves a lanyard.
I pushed Dru to put the link to the film on my site. I have been shown, several times, how to send a link on my phone. So far, it hasn’t stuck. I DO WANT TO thank all the folks who showed up for the event. So, THANK YOU.
THE FOURTH OCCASIONAL SURF CULTURE ON THE STRAIT OF JUAN DE FUCA AND THE SALISH SEA EVENT is scheduled for Wednesday, July 17, 6 to 8 pm, Port Townsend Public Library. The emphasis is on “Talking Story,” with distinguished story talkers and… regular-but-real surfers, AND there will be surf focused art by Olympic Peninsula artists, AND there will be outtakes or a gag reel, at least, or the actual world premier of a short documentary on a longtime surf villian blowing up at (or just blowing up) a local not-secret-enough spot.
Or, of course, I will post whatever I know. AND, I am making efforts to have some ORIGINAL ERWIN T SHIRTS available. New ones.
I have several other illustrations that haven’t been scanned. So… decisions.
“SWAMIS” UPDATE- With my fourth oir fifth total edit/rewrite was stuck at over 105,000 words, I have been dealing with the knowledge that I would have to further cut back on the timeline. Because Microsoft Word on the laptop I am ‘borrowing’ from my daughter, Drucilla, suddenly started going… really… slow, I found a pretty good place to end what may or may not be the first book of… I don’t know, at least one more, THOUGH I’ve pretty much had enough of the writing style of the fictional narrator, JOSEPH ATSUSHI DE FREINES. He’s just a little too OCD for me AND it makes me worry.
So, currently, the manuscript is down to under 90,000 words, AND, because I was in severe panic mode, I took the thumb drive to COHO PRINTING and had 8 copies printed up. I’ve already given away two of them. AND, because the new epilogue and the new, foreshortened ending were the last things I wrote, AND because I am, in addition to the other psycho damage, evidently anal retentive about writing and cannot look at my work without changing it, I have done more on the first several pages.
I plan on printing them up separately, and… yeah, planning.
DRU updated the Microsoft, so, fast, fast, too fast. The good news is, with all the stuff I have written in the bloated, unexpurgated versions, I have lots of material, AND because I have what I intended to be the ending at a state where I was… almost… satisfied with it, it might be easier to continue with “Swamis.”
HINT- I’m considering “Beacons,” another Encinitas surf spot, as a subtitle for part II, then… “Grandview…” maybe. Anyway, here’s the latest. I’m pretty satisfied… Almost.
“SWAMIS” A novel by Erwin A. Dence, Jr.
PROLOGUE
Some moments, terror and bliss, mostly, that occurred in seconds, become, over time, placemarks. A corner turned, a decision made, a life changed. The mundane and the magic become part of the story. It’s easier to remember the magic.
I started writing “Swamis” as memoir; fifty years after a specific time in a location that was, to me, magical. Swamis. If I believed I was the observer of other people’s lives, a part of someone else’s audience, listening to their stories, remembering the best parts, recording them; the real people placed, as characters, into positions in some larger story I believed I understood; and I did believe that; I was wrong. Wrong about it all.
Whatever I saw, whatever I recorded, whatever role I played made little or no difference in what seemed inevitable. Still, I was there, almost eighteen, and thrilled to be there.
Recalling, and writing, and editing, and rewriting has come to mean throwing out the peripheral and tangential stories, the ones I love knowing, the deep cuts. I have, finally, concluded that I want to tell more than one book’s worth. Still, this manuscript, with fifteen-thousand words cut and saved in some other file, might be the end of my trying to recapture the feel of a time in which change hit a new gear. Surf and evolution and revolution and peace and love and a war in the background, a drug culture morphing into an industry, heroes and villains, if anyone fit into either category, impossibly connected.
The murder and the mystery, all the other stories; “Swamis” was always going to be about Julie. And me. Julie and me. Magic.
CHAPTER ONE- MONDAY, NOVEMBER 13, 1969
“The allure of waves was too much, I’m told, for an almost three-year-old, running, naked, into them. If I tell you I remember how the light shone through the shorebreak waves, the streaks of foam sucked into them; if I remember the shock of cold water and the force with which the third wave knocked me down, the pressure that held me down, my struggle for air; if I say I remember anything other than my mother clutching me out and into the glare by one arm… or even that… Well, Doctor Peters, that would be, this all happening before the accident; that would be… me… creating a story from fragments. Wouldn’t it… be… that?”
“Memories. Dreams. We can’t know how much of life is created from… fragments. But, please, Joey; the basketball practice story; I didn’t get a chance to write it down. So, the guy…”
“I’m not here because of that… offense.”
“I am aware. Just… humor me.”
“I was… Freshman team. Locker room. They staggered practice. I was… slow… getting dressed. Bus schedules. He… FFA guy… Future Farmers. JV. Tall, skinny, naked, foot up on a bench. he said I had a pretty big… dick… for a Jap. I said, ‘Thank you.’ It was more like a question. All the Varsity players came in. Most stood behind him. He said, ‘Oh, that’s right; your daddy; he’s all dick.’ Big laugh.”
“’Detective,’ I said. ‘And, Rusty, I am sorry about your brother at the water fountain. I’m on probation already… and I’m off the wrestling team, and…’ I talk really fast when I’m… forced to… talk. I’m sure you’ve made note. I said, ‘I don’t want to cut my hand… on your big buck teeth.’ Bigger laugh. Varsity guys going, ‘Whoa,’ and… He was embarrassed. His brother… it’s in the records, that incident. Fourth grade. Right after I… came back.”
“Joey, are you…? You’re picturing it… the incident. You are.”
“No. I… Yes. I quite vividly imagine… incidents. In both cases, I tried to do what my father taught me… or tried to. ‘Walking away is not backing down.’ Basketball. I never had a shot. Good passer, great hip check.”
“He… Rusty, he charged at you?”
“He closed his eyes. I didn’t.”
“All right. So, so, so… Let’s talk about the incident for which you are here. You had a foot on… a student’s throat. Yes? Yes. He was, as you claim, already on the ground… faking having a seizure. He alleges he wasn’t a threat to you; wasn’t charging at you. Have you considered…?”
“The bullied becomes the bully? It’s… easy, simple, logical… not new; and I have… considered it. Let’s just say it’s true then. I am… this is my story… trying to mend my ways. Look, Grant’s dad alleges… assault. I’m… I get it; I’m almost eighteen. Grant claims he and his buddies were just… fooling around; adolescent… fun; I can, conceivably… claim, and I have, the same.”
“But it wasn’t… fun… for you?”
“It… kind of… was. Time’s up. My mom’s… waiting.”
“Joey… I am, can be… the bully here. So… sit the fuck back down!”
Chimacum Tim Pauley sent me this photo of PAVONES. The memorial for EDINSON SERNA is today. Edinson’s brother lives near this epic Central American break. Some secret photos Tim has sent me in the past were taken by Edinson. One of them, secretly circulated among, you know, friends who wouldn’t share it except to, you know, a few friends, always had the question of who caught this magic moment on at was, up until this very time, an uneventful/normal session.
Five frothed-out surfers from the cold northwest waters crewed-up and spent two weeks in some undisclosed location in Panama. No, I don’t know where, don’t have a passport, and… so I won’t or can’t spread it around. Panama, it’s, like, tiny on the map, with a canal in the middle of it.
Though I didn’t hear anything from either Chris (Chris Eardley and Christian Coxen), or either of Keith (Keith Darrock and Cougar Keith), or from Nolan (as with Cougar, don’t actually know his last name), it did seem interesting to me that, tracking my audience (not that many, but all over the wide world), I got a couple of views from, yes, Panama.
All right, all right, here’s the Eardley report, photos by Chris Eardley:
CHRIS EARDLEY’S PANAMANIAC REPORT-
Alright, alright. Here is a report for you: We have been surfing a lot. The waves have been good, the water is warm. We surfed something like eight spots, and we’ve been doing a lot of diving and fishing, too. Cougar Keith dropped a big fish on my foot, which clamped down immediately and made me bleed for hours, keeping me out of the water for a couple of hours due to fear of sharks (we’d already encountered several while diving). I still have teeth marks on my foot.
That’s okay, though, because Cougar got the worst sunburns. On the trip (he dominated a couple of the early surf sessions, too) and had a close brush with what he believes was a small bull shark 30 feet underwater.
The local librarian (non-cougar Keith) has been getting after it, as you’d guess, and we learned he can, in fact, go right on a wave as well. He’s also been reorganizing the hostel bookshelves in his down time.
Christian will be lucky to get out of here without breaking any more gear, as he’s been pursuing big fish and big waves. Best margarita on the trip has gone to him as well.
Nolan’s surf style has not been lost in translation down here.
Lots of great wildlife and good food. Craziest thunder storms we have ever seen, and the camp was nearly struck one night.
We are stoked!
DAMN, realsurfers, I screwwed up on another Eardley photo, a scary looking crab; and I am unable to share a video of a very close lightning storm. Maybe it’s the trip thing, but I have stories from Mazatlan, 57 years ago, with waves and storms and crab attacks. Yeah, another time. Since a big trip for me is, maybe, La Push, I’m anxious to hear more stories.
My most recent text to Chris (and thank you, incidentally) was, “If you’re looking for adventure, it’s nice to have some adventures.”
I can’t help but say that this photo looks kind of like a rare day on the Strait. Rocks, lefts, yeah, no wetsuits.
Meanwhile, I am working on “Swamis,” just went back to set up something that’ll pay off later in the story. Hopefully. Hint: based on some east coast guy in high school calling our chicks ‘broads.’ I had to look up “Jagoff.” Yeah, research. ALSO, I survived my second eye surgery. So far, it’s kind of like having sunglasses on one eye; irritating. Trish got me an eyepatch; pretty stylish but almost equally irksome. I’m not sure how surfing affects the post-op eyeballs; I’ll find out more with my next visit to the Retina Center.
I’M TRYING to get ready. It isn’t going all that well. JOEL AND RACHEL CARBEN, the folks in charge of the COLAB (collaberative work space) in downtown Port Townsend, above the Silverwater Cafe and below the Starlight Room part of the Rose Theatre, were kind enough to allow me to display my art works there for three months. This is the second Art Walk, and I guess I am supposed to hang out there and try to sell folks on my stuff. I’ve been working on three screens. This is the only one that is complete in time for this month’s dealie.
I’ll be hanging out from five to eight pm. Cruise on in. Good luck finding parking.
I am also bringing my MANTA surfboard. The painting is complete, but it still needs a coat of resin. STILL, is someone wants to buy it…
In case you can’t make it, I’ll, almost surely, write something about it tomorrow.
These folks are featured in the previous post. Scroll down to check it out. The two guys are brothers. Formerly of Sequim, they are currently living in Yakima. I didn’t ask why, but I did insist they put the boonie hats back on for the photo. The one on the left helped me with my wetsuit. They were all in the water for at least four hours.
Adam “Wipeout” James, super critical seafood person at Hama Hama Seafood, was supposed to go surfing, supposed to cruise up Surf Route 101 and drop off some Hood Canal Shrimp/Prawns at my house for my daughter, Dru’s, upcoming birthday. It’s also Earth Day, and if I got this right, the first Earth Day was right around Dru’s birth. I’d check it, but I’d rather keep the myth going.
I wanted to show Adam the board I made by cutting down the first SUP (of two) I owned by two feet. The idea was to keep as much width and thickness as possible. The hope was that I could still use a paddle on a more maneuverable board, like, one that would cut back in less than twenty yards. That didn’t work.
Adam, who, to my knowledge, didn’t go surfing on this day, took a couple of photos of me and the board, and it’ easy to see why it takes more foam to float the guy in the pictures. Gnome.
Yeah, the one pants leg not all the way down is part of the look.
Adam’s first comment on seeing the board was, “Oh, it’s just like the other one.”
I had to stew on that one for a while before I texted Adam. “The difference is that I own this one,” to which Adam responded with, “Laughed at…”
In more Hama Hama news: Stephen R. Davis, heading down Surf Route 101 to San Francisco to check out a greeting card convvention, stopped in, sold some of his greeting cards. Adam, running around, as always, making sure the oysters are thriving, met up with Steve, got him a check, and gave him this hat:
Stephen R. Davis self portrait.
I’m going to have to update my copies of Stephen R. Davis cards. They are available at several spots in Jefferson County. I’ll get a list together. I do apologize
ALSO, if you’re a realsurfer regular, you probably realize that what I’m doing is redoing and tightening and improving the artwork on the MANTA. I made it, originally, as a twin fin, the boxes routed by CHRIS BAUER, Port Angeles board maker. Peninsula rippers AARON LENNOX and KEITH DARROCK rode the thing, the mat coming unglued as Keith ripped a few waves. Because Aaron said he thought the twin fins were not enough on the wide board, I added a full length middle fin and tried to ride the board in some small but powerful waves. Pretty much belly boarding, the board definitely found the tubes. The big fin threw the balance off. I ripped it out, replaced it with a smaller fin, mostly to kind of hide the hole.
I have to put a coat of resin on the top and bottom, and then… backup board, maybe. OR… I am losing weight, or trying to, mostly because, at Jefferson General Wound Care because of an infected cut to my leg, the nurse insisted on taking my blood pressure (high) and putting me on the scales. My friend Keith has been bugging me to lose, like, 75 pounds, after which, he claims, I’d “Really be dominating.” No, 75 isn’t enough. Fat people never tell you what they weigh until they lose some of it. So, not saying.
OH, and because I have my art (and the cedar board) on display for two more months at the COLAB in downtown Port Townsend, I plan on putting the Manta on display.
UPDATES FORTHCOMING. Maybe not Wednesday. I’ve been trying. It’s not content, it’s time. Stuff to do.
Remember to respect the copyrighted material, mine and Steve’s. And remember to be real if you, try as you may, can’t be nice.
…I feel I should say something about the most important day for Christians, but…
—INSTANT EDIT- Here is my honest belief: Religion is a personal matter. Whether you believe in God of don’t, it is your right; one that probably won’t be taken from you. I don’t care what your belief is, God or Non-God-wise. Slightly beyond that, I do care how one’s beliefs impact others.—
FIRST, here’s a word- FANTA-CIDE, as in the DEATH OF FANTASIES. Here’s how it came up. A friend was telling me how this very attractive woman seemed, to him, to be attracted to him, and, maybe, you know, like, maybe… “Really? Like, then, what are you going to do about it?” Oh, and you don’t have fantasies? “Sure. People do. You can’t write fiction without… imagining. But there’s imagining and there’s… real life. My imagining I rip up the surf doesn’t mean I do. And…”
Fantacide. Way too close to “Infanticide” and the serious horror that word covers. Fantacide. I may never use it again.
BUT, if we’re discussing what we imagine and what is real, my thoughts on EASTER, the celebration of a Savior, risen from the, I cannot avoid considering how perceptions of Christ’s teachings are so widely diverse, from pacifists to war-mongers, from those who profess to love their enemies, to those who are willing to strike out with whatever weapons they can get against those who frighten, let alone threaten them; that there must be a Jesus who is somewhere in between.
The fact that there are so many denominations that claim to have the TRUE RELIGION is proof that, perhaps, none have the whole truth.
I don’t know Jesus. You don’t know Jesus.
That’s it.
Of course that’s not IT. Jesus did say, according to Scripture, that GOD, the father, is SPIRIT. It seems appropriate to, perhaps, consider the spirit of Jesus. Vengeful, hateful, spiteful; ready to vanquish your enemies? Ready to reward you on earth with all you are bold enough to pray for? If that’s the Jesus you imagine, and you have managed to twist scripture to support your position… fine; I’m not supposed to judge.
AND YET, I do. I am a sinner, and I continue to be one. I’m sure you will forgive me. It’s required. AND, since I’m confessing, I might add I get quesey as hell when I see anyone who equates Christianity with Nationalism, who profits, some ridiculously, from the sincere desires of sincere believers, who dresses in the costume of goodness and righteousness but preaches division and, yes, hatred, well; show me the lines in scripture (in some Bibles, quotes from Jesus are annotated in red) that backs up that shit.
AGAIN, it’s Easter, and it’s a beautiful day here. STILL, it might not ruin your day completely to imagine the people in our one and only world who are suffering the effects of war and famine, the people displaced by violence, those who are seeking some better, more peaceful life. You don’t have to imagine. It’s on the television. If you don’t want to see, or you want to see victims portrayed as invaders or terrorists, change the channel.
While I sympathize, I am honest enough to say I do little or nothing to help. If I see someone with a cardboard sign at the exit to the market, I seek another exit. I am, and I fully confess this; a HYPOCRITE.
CHECK OUT your new Citizen trump-endorsed Bible; Jesus starts so many many sentences with, “You hypocrites.” It didn’t make him all that popular at the time.
Feel free to disagree. Meanwhile, may some of your fantasies become real. AND, if you’re seeking waves, may you find them… and ride a few.
WAIT! Is it still Wednesday? Sorry; I meant to post earlier, but I had to go somewhere and… No excuses, but I did start writing some stuff and, and it just wasn’t good enough.
I will have something, for sure, on SUNDAY.
Meanwhile, if you get a chance to hit some surf, hit it like you mean it.
My most recent post featured some of my latest drawings, contenders for a spot as an ORIGINAL ERWIN t-shirt. UNFORTUNATELY, one of them got lost in the scuffle. But, good news, I got the images rescanned and now….
There are the images, here’s the story (Optional), bottom to top:
Here’s a mockup of a shirt design I did for the Port Townsend PUBLIC Library (officially for the ‘Friends of the…’) SUMMER READING Project. It would be clearer on the actual shirt, and the colors… different.
Here’s me attempting to look fierce in a French Beret someone left on a fencepost after some Port Townsend hipster, evidently, lost it in a fit of utter euphoria. I’m holding Stephen R. Davis’s hammer, total prop. There is a story here involving some injuries I incurred taking a (stupid) fall off a ladder and onto two open paint cans. Crushed them, cut the back of both of my legs. Ten days later I got to go to Urgent Care for an (even stupider) infection (swelling, red lines down my leg, that kind of stuff) I have photos, best not shared. Antibiotics and Advil, I’m on the mend.
THIS leads us to the top two images. SO, NINE days after my fall, STEPHEN R. DAVIS and I are out on the Strait, and getting skunked. OF COURSE. But, I had my thumb drive with me, and on it was the top image that, for some technical reason, I was not able to transfer to my computer. AND there was a print shop on the way out of Port Angeles.
SO I cruise in there and get a reversal (2nd image) of the drawing. SINCE we’re skunked and it’s still early, we cruise up Lincoln to the NXNW surf shop. I’ve talked to the new owner (Frank Crippen’s successor) about selling some of my stuff and he’s been agreeable. There are a couple of other surfers in the shop, obviously skunked. I set the copy on the counter and one of the guys is just staring at it, running fingers down the various lines, muttering “Oh” and “Whoa” long enough that I had to say, “Hey, man, it’s just lines and dots.” “Whoa!”
I’m still leaning on this one for the next shirt. I’ll definitely keep you posted. MEANWHILE, surf ’em if (and when you find ’em. More stuff on Wednesday.
Oh, yeah, and all ORIGINAL ERWIN images are copyrighted, all rights reserved by Erwin A. Dence, Jr.
Real Surfers 