this is a very good thing

Summer seems pretty much here and this is a very good thing. It is a time to feel completely free from everything society tells us to be. If you haven't yet, make it an important note to immediately forget what day and time it is. Go on every adventure God throws at you. Swim naked, grow a beard, build a fire, scream on your back porch, purchase a flight to somewhere you know nothing about, drive and sing with your windows down, sleep on the beach, build a fort, cook outside, learn a new instrument, smoke a cigar, make cut-offs out of your pants, steal (borrow) a golf cart, read a book, stop texting, road-trip, carve a tiki-man, eat a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich (or just invent one), talk to strangers, boogy in a place where nobody else has to a song that only you can hear, get completely lost, plant something, and of course never change out of your bathing suit. Anything else you feel like adding to this list it greatly appreciated. When you're old, reminiscing, and nostalgic, these will make awesome ridiculous memories, so take advantage of it!

Not quite sure how to describe this one.

Something we decided to make last night:

Irish Blood

beautiful words

Last Saturday

About three weeks ago I started working aboard the Freedom, the local schooner here in town. All I can say is that it is the best job I have ever had and I feel truly blessed. We take out tourists to sail for a few hours and serve them drinks. We also get to climb around on the greatest floating playground of ropes and beams ever created. Last Saturday though, work was a bit different from what I had started to get used to.

The day began with a private group out for a funeral ceremony involving the dumping of someone's ashes over the side of our ship. I had never been apart of one before, not even on land, so of course I was a little intrigued. They arrived with champagne and finger-foods all ready to be served by us. Everyone seemed pretty nice. I learned Bob had passed in his 60s leaving behind his wife and adult children. A few smiles revealed that some time had gone by since the passing.

Later the widow poured the ashes into the ocean. Sniffling followed and then words were shared. Some people told their favorite memory of Bob. Some made jokes to lighten his death. Some just drank the champagne. And then a man stood up who had been quiet the entire trip. I had noticed him earlier. He had been socially isolated from everyone else and by his own choice I am sure. A strong looking old guy with balding gray hair, he too was probably in his mid 60s. He started to speak but three words into his story his voice broke apart and so did he. Everything got quiet, everything. He attempted to speak again but soon fell back to pieces. I looked around at my fellow crew and their faces went solemn too. My own face was feeling a little heavy. Bob had been his best friend. I bet they probably knew each other their whole lives. It seemed the death had even hit this man harder than it had the widow. His glass shook, then fell to his waist. He got quiet again. Soon a woman interrupted to share another thought about Bob, but I don't think anyone heard her. We all seemed stuck. Stuck staring down at the wet cracks in the hull deck. But I do not think thats what we were looking at.

Two hours later I was working another shift with a different group of people. A man stood up, turned to the girl next to him, and kneeled before her. He proposed, she took the ring, and we all clapped. It felt weird witnessing such an event in the same day. I am not sure why, but I guess thats why I am writing this post.

Last Night We Made Enchiladas

Mugshots of Australian Criminals from the 1920's

These shots are amazing: 

click here to see more

Whistling

Due to my depressingly low income at the present moment and having no choice but to be cheap, I have been riding my bike as much as possible. Note: I am not complaining about this at all. A bicycle is an incredibly humbling and efficient mode of transportation.
      
Today the wind coming across the bridge was insane. It was clearly in a hurry to get somewhere south, perhaps to escape the cold weather or go see friends in San Felipe. Anyway my purpose right now is not to describe the wind or its intentions. What I have sat down to write about was the whistling that the Bridge of Lions was nonchalantly doing today as I rode over it. It was whistling a tune so loud that I almost fell off my bike when it reached my ears. (I did not fall off my bike) The sound went through pitches up and down as different sized gusts powered and weaved through it. I was so surprised by this I slowed my pedaling just so I could listen to it sing for a moment. I am not saying this whistling was in perfect in rhythm or key, but it did sound pretty cool.

I wonder if the bridge builders had slightly intended for their design to create such an effect. My guess is they did not, however its fun to imagine they might have. I can see the builders smirking over their blueprints, leering over the specific placement of metal beams and cement. I hope they did.
The more likely situation is that the event today was purely coincidence and such an effect it not that rare among bridges, but I don't find that to be as much fun to think about.

This song echoes in my brain.

Cliffs Along The Sea from Christian Sorensen Hansen on Vimeo.

something great.

Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zero's - A Take Away Show from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.

Summer Jobs are Set.

      










         I figure its been awhile since I have mentioned anything personally significant on this blog and since it is my meandering blog, I feel I have the right to do just that. A few weeks ago my girlfriend Sarah and I decided we wanted to do something together this summer while at the same time hopefully make some sort of an income. So we began the great Google search to find such things. There is a lot of crazy stuff out there. I saw one opening looking for a couple to operate a skeet-shooting range. If I knew more about guns then I'd say thats awesome. Anyway a whole bunch of listings popped up from Alaska. Alaska? Yes, Alaska. (excuse me for talking to myself). I guess there is a lot of jobs over there. Who knew? Sarah and I applied on a whim for this one called Alaska Canopy Adventures where we could be "zip-line tour guides". Well two weeks later, we both have the jobs and we are going May 8th for several months. Yea its crazy, crazy awesome!

           Its funny because this still hardly sounds believable to me, even when I type it. However, despite mine or anyone else's doubts, I am writing now to confirm that this is indeed happening. Sarah and I are going to Alaska and we are very stoked. I will be sure to keep my blog updated during the adventure with photos, videos, bad tattoos, etc. The shots above and below are taken from where we will be.
            

Actually..... its pretty neat

I Can't Sleep.

The most annoying thing in the world for me right now is that I want to sleep. Yes I want to sleep. Though, my body seems to think otherwise. I just laid in my bed for two hours rolling around like a corn dog in the trunk of car and had absolutely zero results. There is a good visual for you. I am sorry I figured I might as well write something if I have to be awake. I am supposed to be up at 8am tomorrow for student teaching, but it's not looking like that will happen if my restless body does not choose to be tired soon. Can my body choose to be tired? I guess so if it can certainly choose to be awake. I feel like somebody injected me with one of those damn 5-hour energy things that are always on TV. I can hear it now. I bet even if I fell asleep I would have that commercial playing in my dream.....and then I would wake up... Oh this is weird. I just want to sleep.

Also excuse my bluntness but counting sheep is bullshit.

One More Time, 1-100

Breakfast is the greatest meal of the day

see

Terms of Freedom for a "Man-Mountain"

I decided recently out of curiosity to read Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels. I think another reason for the read was to spite the recently terrible re-make now in theaters. Anyway, as I was reading I came upon this part I liked. Within the third chapter Gulliver is negotiated his freedom by miniature captives under the following terms:

              seems almost casual.

good ol' imagination

Found this video through a friend..... Just keeping watching, its awesome.

Brought the little sailboat up from home

I recently was able to bring my little 14ft something sailboat up from home to St. Augustine with the help of a few friends. After finding all the right parts Ben, John, and I were able to make a little adventure with her around St. Augustine yesterday. Oh and this is also actually the same boat I learned to sail on when I was 13 years old.

Film done by Ben Sasso.

Enjoy


14 from ben sasso on Vimeo.

embrace the goofyness

            Sometimes I come about moments of deep reflection and realization that spring forth bits of knowledge and imagination that help me to further my understanding of what living really is. The moments come in many forms. Many times they can appear in conversation, other times it might occur while walking over a bridge. Certain types may appear in dreams, sleeping or not. What I seem to have gathered from these bits, is that often what makes life more worth itself, is embracing the pure and genuine idea, that in fact we are all goofy human beings. Some of us just have trouble accessing that goofyness or truly showing it. We can be afraid of what might happen to us if we do. However, it is that simple goofyness that can make a life great and interesting. Just closing your eyes and dancing to music (whether its coming out of speakers or just in your head) and letting your body quirk into ridiculous and strange maneuvers because at the moment its what feels right. This is a perfect way of tapping into that whimsical substance we all contain. Another example might come in the form of coloring on your wall or maybe trying to sound out the letters and numbers on somebody's license plate. What about chasing that armadillo around your yard even though you wouldn't know what to do if you caught him?
             If this is new to you, its okay to start small. Try wearing colorful socks that do not match or maybe learning to play the kazoo. You never know when it might come in handy. Once, my roommate and I ran around the front yard shouting in our boxers because we were so stoked that a cold-front had finally arrived and we suddenly felt urged not-to contain ourselves. Another good one is singing along, out loud to the song in your headphones while riding your bike down the street (a personal favorite of mine). You might also want start up a conversation with the guy stopped next to you at the red light.
            I guess what I'm conveying here, is that I feel like its the simple quirky things we do, alone or not, that take away that lectured "seriousness" we all have adapted to which more often than not is completely unnecessary. Am I making sense? I never know. I do not want to say we should entirely act like children. Its good to be mature about certain things. There will always be a need for that. However, I think there are so many other areas of our lives where acting irresponsible and goofy are needed. Too many people use "growing up" as an excuse for not having an imagination. In my experience of  "growing up,"(so far) its keeping an imagination that makes living interesting. Do things that have zero logic behind them and just embrace the freaking goofyness.

the beginning of something great

My roommate and I recently decided to start our own series of short youtube films. enjoy.

some nice bits

Walking to the Sailor's Exchange the other day, I noticed this doorway in an alley by a rather miniature parking lot.  Turning around I also saw a very humble little bug. Both things seemed very loved. I found the Sailor's Exchange closed but was glad to have made the trip.

photos via phone:

Monday Morning Devos from CS

I was checkin my email today and came upon another one of the Monday Morning Devos that Christian Surfers sends me every week. They almost always provide a little uplift to to get things going. I thought the one today was especially awesome, and therefore I really want to share it. Instead of attempting my own painful summarization, I  just copy/pasted the message right here so you could read it. I think its good for everyone, but if you are a surfer its even more noteworthy. enjoy:

HOW JESUS SAVES THE SOUL OF SURFING Boards do get broken. It should not surprise us. We live in a world where tons of things break: relationships, economies, human bodies, our word. And Jesus came on the scene roughly 2000 years ago and declared “I can fix that.” In John 3:17 he said something to the effect that “I didn’t come to condemn the world, I came to save it.” Simple stated. Jesus saves. Jesus heals broken things. And there are lots of things broken in this world. Things like foam and fiberglass boards, which snap like toothpicks when conditions go extreme. But go beyond things to people. People get broken. People are broken. And all our efforts of patching ourselves up won’t make us right. It won’t make us who we were intended to be. And how do broken people get whole? Jesus must save them. In other words: renew them, restore them and make them new. When surf clothing companies make heroes of alcoholics and then cast these heroes aside once their contest ratings or photo appeal begin to wane, that is a broken thing. When surfers brought their wave riding to Lagundri Bay in Nias and transformed an island paradise into a drug-infested ghetto, that is broken also. It’s a broken thing when women in surfing can only get ahead if they are sexually and physically stunning. We experience the brokenness of surfing every time there’s a shouting match in the water, then a punch-out on the beach, then slashed tires and expletives written with wax on windshields. We try to justify ourselves by going green, while we burn fuel in jets to get us on our surf vacations, as we burn diesel to power the A/C in the stateroom of our boats so we can sleep comfortably, readying ourselves to ride waves on boards that are made from incredibly toxic materials. There’s something broken in that line of reasoning, that we somehow get a hall pass for our hypocrisy. The soul of surfing? This is a soul…on the brink of destruction. But it’s a soul that can get healed. Through Jesus. Through his followers, through those who would choose another path. Perhaps through each of the ideas shared in The Ripple Effect, your path can be different. So go out and make some waves. Your life always means more than you think it does, when you place your life in the Master of all creation…

sweet memories

          I was shuffling through my noggin the other day, and came about a certain memory that made me smile a bit. Discovering old memories is such an important thing to do.

             I must have been like 7 or 8 years old at the time, and for one reason or another I decided I was going to write a letter to God. A prayer hardly seemed sufficient for my purposes, and thankfully my innocent child brain knew that. So I wrote this little letter. I wish I could remember more of the specific details I scribbled in that note because it would have certainly made this moment of nostalgia all the more exciting. I do remember being very casual though. My words were something along the lines of, "Dear God, How are you? How has heaven been going? Please come down and see me when you aren't too busy. Lets hang out." Nothing too intense or witty I guess, just my 7 or 8 year old brain. 

            Some point that week I concluded that the only form of postal service available for delivering my letter to God, was by sending it souring to heaven through the use of a helium balloon. My mom took me to the store to get one the next day. For some strange explanation we had to get a red "Happy Birthday" balloon. I think it may have been because it was the biggest one available and big was necessary. A few hours later after a little scotch tape and some miniature preparation, my letter was firmly attached to the string of the balloon and everything was ready to happen. My Mother and Grandmother came outside to watch me mail the letter to God. I remember letting go of the funny little envelope and then we all watched the parcel slowly make its way up into the clouds. It was a medium cloudy day. Soon all we could see was a tiny spec of it sailing away, like a grain of pepper amidst a bowl of gravy. (that simile works right?)

             Today I know God received my letter. I got His reply. 

I plan to have made myself a member of this organization at some point within the next year

check it:


















www.worldbeardchampionships.com

seriously this is incredible

Disappointingly interesting

        Today something disappointingly interesting happened. I was on my way to my car after sociology and thinking about how I never have much to say in the class discussions. Coming along La Quinta Street I noticed several cars were reversing their way out. I had parked on La Quinta and was a little confused by this, but figured you know whatever. Note: this street is very narrow and is usually lined with parallel parked cars the whole way down. Therefore, its not too unlikely to see a car reverse or pull over for someone else to go by.
       Okay, getting to it now.... Nearing my car, I saw two other vehicles stopped nose to nose in front of one another just beside my own. Uh oh maybe there was an accident, right? Oh if only...  I arrived and then disproved my collision-hypothesis on account of the damageless 8ft gap between them. "Weird?," I thought out loud.
      I'm skipping ahead: After talking to each driver and letting them know they had blocked me in and how it would be highly appreciated if someone would move so I could go home, it became annoyingly clear neither was moving for the other.... or me. A girl came by who was blocked in too. This was great because she helped confirm for me that this was freaking ridiculous, yet somewhat exciting. We were both interested to see what they would do.
       Attempting to resolve this and go home, I ran back and forth between the cars to hopefully negotiate some kind of movement. In doing so, I was also able to learn more about what was actually going on....
       As I begin to describe this, please understand that I tried my hardest to believe that this was not the case, but the longer I was there the more I realized I was witnessing some pretty intense racism. The driver of the first car was slightly more at rights to not move because of his vehicle's position. He was also black. The driver of the second car could back up 12ft and be out of the way no problem. He was white. Now I may be using a little stereotyping when I say this, but the white guy was as redneck and toothlessly stubborn as it gets. His reason for not moving was also just a wee-bit terrible. He told me, "He wasn't moving because he wasn't moving." Well, I think when someone gives you an excuse like that, its safe to assume he is either very racist or very ignorant, or very both. The black driver, a bit more together, seemed to have gathered this info as well and refused to move for the principal of the situation. Okay I can agree with that more. I eventually told the white guy he was the most confused person I had ever met. I also suggested they settle it over a thumbwar.
        Twenty minutes later after further failed negotiation and no thumb war, the police showed up. It was over in ten seconds. We all left and went on our way. It seriously bothers me that such events still happen and that there are still people like that. There is the chance I could be wrong about all of my assumptions of the event and hopefully I am, but for now I think I have something to talk about in sociology.

some good times

This is John Taylor, Ben Sasso, and myself playing with some instruments and waders in the river several months ago.... filmed by Ben. enjoy!  

Monday. from ben sasso on Vimeo.

Here is something amazing to listen and watch to

#95.1 Man Man - Warmup 1 - The Boombox
Uploaded by lablogotheque. - Music videos, artist interviews, concerts and more.


#90.3 - BOWERBIRDS - The Ticonderoga
Uploaded by lablogotheque. - Watch more music videos, in HD!


Tallest Man on Earth - The Gardener -  A Take Away Show from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.

Israeli thoughts

      

       I want to be a teacher, I really do. I think its something I might actually be good at. Yes there are all sorts of teachers, not just the classic school type, however this particular type happens to my aim for this discourse.  A teacher for the most part helps to educate students right? Of course! I guess thats kinda what they are supposed to do. Though, I guess there are exceptions to that standard on account of well we've all had at least one teacher who did nothing but swallow up air and spit quickly forgotten words from their most comfortable spot in the classroom. (not my personal goal)

       When you travel, you meet the most amazing people and you often have the most incredible conversations with them. This summer while amongst fellow staff on the island I worked with a friend from Israel named Shahar. We taught sailing from the cove day after day for a little over two months. Though I think our job at times could be described more like a sortive strange aguatic form of herding boats rather than sailing. Anyway Shahar and I were doing this one day in our chase-boat, however today with the wind being light this hour, conversation was given the opportunity to have a bit more depth. It began like many discussions, focusing around American culture and its obsession with being competitive and materialistic. I usually agree and point out my wish to escape such a world. Then, in his blocky Israeli accent Shahar asked, "Why is it that you want to teach?" I answered my practiced answer, "To help children in underdeveloped countries get an education they otherwise couldn't have." Our words expanded onwards from there and eventually led into to Shahar's thesis, "Wouldn't you then be giving those people an American education? You will be providing an education for people to be successful. They then will then want to make more money,  to be consumers, to be like Americans." It was so strange. For some reason I hadn't ever considered this thought before. I couldn't believe it. "Hmm" I thought out loud. I was stumped and my brain was punching me. Shahar began again, "I think if I taught, I would teach how to be a good man." I like that." I said. Shahar was way ahead of me. He was also already a good man. 

         This is me skipping ahead: I think what I've gathered from this, is that no matter where I go to teach (the United States no longer excluded), I don't aim to make subject material my focus. In whatever ways I can, I will teach and hopefully express the need for us to do what is right and what is in our hearts. When we want more, we usually just make things more complicated, crush each other in the process, and then taking away that beautiful simplicity that is life. Why ruin that?

Well I hope that made sense to you...  it did for me.

catalina brain bump

   Its been a while since my last post but I think its only because lately my brain has been a constant swarm of thoughts buzzing about like the Catalina yellow jackets that steal bites from my meals every day. (still can't believe they're carnivores). Though I guess I also seem to turn to my journal more often than my blog lately.
    So I have been living on this funny little island for almost 2 months now teaching sailing and being a camp counselor person on the side. They said I'm called a specialist so I try to go by that title more as it sounds oh so much sweeter. Owen, the specialist...
     Despite the bombardment of children and almost nonexistent time for escape, I have been able to do some thinking. The island has a weird of way of going about such business. Something about being separated from the mainland or "real world" (as they call it here) for so long, is that you get a chance to look at your life from a sort of distance. Does that make sense? I'm seeing myself as if I were a bird (a pelican preferably) who has observed my life thus far and now guesses at whats next based on previous observations and thought development.
A made a friend, Kenton from Virginia, who works out here. A few years ahead of me he too studied to be a teacher and after a series of adventures has moved to San Francisco where he now teaches. We were talking one night and he said, "I'm in my 20's. I figure I should live in a great city while I'm young." I thought about this statement for awhile. As long as I can remember, all I've ever wanted to do is leave. Forget the states, forget materials, and hopefully make some difference along the way. Well... I'm not about to say that's no longer a goal I  have anymore. I very much still do, but Kelton's words have taken some influence on me.  Maybe I should live in a great city where I can be a part of my generation, part of people's lives, and experience a new type of escape. You know at least just try it for a little while to test the waters a bit. I'm sure theres ways to help out in a city as well. Being a teacher likely has it benefits. Hmm..... of course these are only thoughts though. I firmly think its up to God to decide such matters, however I also believe He often uses people to sway us in these things.