Whenever I convince myself that there’s nothing going on, it’s usually because I’ve gone full hermit and haven’t left the house. That being said, there’s no shortage of things to be enthusiastic about.

A few weeks back, I got to go see Future Islands do a Q & A and a few songs at the Grammy Museum. A few was honestly not enough and I ended up downloading all of their records later that night after failing to procure a ticket to their show that night. They’re probably the best thing to come out of Baltimore since John Waters. How could they not be, when the singer looks like the long lost son of Brando and sounds like Louis Armstrong ate Richard Burton. P1070109

Next I got sent to Malibu for Big Wednesday by my favorite Betty, who reported monster hurricane related waves. I packed snacks and a blanket and headed to the beach. I posted up under a tree at the end of the ride, just before the Malibu Pier. Next to me was a professional photographer with a foot and a half of glass and a tripod and another pro with about a six inches of glass. I pulled out my point and shoot and we laughed, joking that the longest lens was in the water, the next was on the beach, and I was across the highway shooting from my car, but I did manage to capture Laird Hamilton on his stand up paddle board shooting the pier. Laird Hamilton shooting the pier

The waves were huge and stacked up, so you’d be watching at least seven waves at a time and each one would have at least four dudes riding it. I didn’t know where to look. Sitting at the end of the line I had the pleasure of watching the victorious surfers coming out of the water, their eyes on fire, radiating warrior vibes- like Drogo from Game of Thrones, having just surfed a twenty foot wave. Surfers with half a wetsuit on are definitely in my top 5, it’s like the wet tee-shirt of dudes. In fact, I feel like Big Wave surfing might be the male equivalent of a Victoria’s Secret runway show, an incredible display of skin, sexuality and some primal man versus nature shit.

Moving on, now that I’m lost in fond memories of babes, I made it to my favorite Mexican’s art show;  Neckface’s “Drinkin’ On The Job” at New Image Art Gallery. I love his work and have been enjoying his antics since he first showed up at a skate demo and tried to run over some little kids. More than anything, I appreciate his refusal to evolve anything but his talents. If you care so much.... P1070173 P1070162

In addition to all this radness, I went to the Hollywood Bowl to see the LA Philharmonic do Beethoven’s Ninth. In a surprising move, they opened with music from Westside Story, leaving me and my companion doing our best modern dance moves from our bench seats. By the time the choir and soloists began singing in guttural German, I had already realized the Beethoven was the Metallica of his day. The Ninth is just so fucking heavy. Not to mention, The Bowl provided karaoke style lyrics on their screens, thus revealing the Ninth includes the phrase, “drunk on fire.” Tell me Beethoven’s not metal.

Lastly, in the midst of all the inspiring and incredible stuff going on outside, there’s some pretty cool shit happening in here too. It might look like a scene out of “Memento” or it might be a photo confessional that indeed I do have pictures of cats at my desk, but whatever it is there’s some pretty cool stuff happening inside as well. JUST WRITE IT!

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