I went to Novato on Sunday again, with just Casey, I rode the new Proflex- it was awesome, but took a while to get used to such a big piece of wood. I also taped up the new park deck, and I really like the way it’s got a more angled nose and tail.

Casey and I were really lethargic, so we got energy back at Mc Donald’s…and then finally got a bit better, he did a really sweet disaster slide and I just had a great time ripping around the bowls…although I’m still a bit shaky in parts.

Yesterday Casey and Brian and I went up to Novato, I brought the new clunker, a 8.5 in piece of maple with 57mm spitfires and a pare of 180 Randall II’s It’s fast as all get out in the bowl, and and we just had an amazing time.

Casey just wore one elbow pad to protect his “second elbow” and dispite Brian’s Knee pads, he couldn’t come unstuck from his 7 dollar griptape, and twisted his knee, which swelled up like crazy.

After a fun day, we went to eat on Van Ness, and just ate like champs.

Today Kev, and one of the guys I met at the pier, who goes to school at the Art Institute, Colin went back to the HS and skated ledges. While we were there we bumped into this guy in my painting class named Donald, so again, the worlds of Art and Skating collide. Coincidence, I think not. On the way back I bombed McAllester, there were hardly any cars, and it’s got lots of stop signs on the side streets, so you can tear down it.

Art is like pain, it stings, heals, but leaves a scar.

Monday Kev and I went to Haight and skated ledges at a high school whose name slips my mind right now…I had a great day working on flatland stuff, got a nollie for real, worked on skating switch, and almost got a pop shuvit down…Kev massive trey flips and a few crazy switch things that I didn’t know what they were.

I got a front side grind, and Kev had a bunch of nose slides and after all that we hit this one part where it drops pretty steeply to a curb, we ollied into it and it’s super fun, kinda like a natural roller coaster.

It was excellent ’cause we didn’t have to worry about 5-0 at the school yard.

How I spent February 5th

By: Pete Ippel - Bay Area Art Cynic

So once again like every great monthly tradition; menstruation or paying your credit card bill, the public are invited to the �First Thursday�s� at 39 Geary. It�s not that I don�t like the idea of seeing the contemporary art scene in San Francisco, but honestly if this is where you�re going to see what�s really �shaking� in this community, this is NOT the place.

It�s like there�s a clich� magnet buried under the building, pulling everything from paint covered combat boots and destroyed jeans to black turtlenecks and berets�sadly there is no discrimination of this horrid subterranean device for artwork either.

As you may or may not know, art is territorial, I mean there can only be one �first� person to do something. Everything else is just an imitation, and usually pales at comparison. This was the only theme running through all the galleries at 49 Geary; nowhere did I find work progressive, intriguing, or even remotely interesting.

�so says the cynic.

That said, I am very much in favor of appropriation, quoting, and derivation, my main point of contention is that the artists displaying in these galleries, neither produce an ironic copy, nor say something culturally through parody. The work seems to be completely devoid of content, and produced to sell.

Don�t get me wrong, I have no romantic view of art, I�m very much in favor of being able to live off being an artist, showing and selling work, but as a creator, it�s important to consider intent as well as the pocket book.

So, rightly or wrongly hopefully we can agree, there can only be one Jean-Michel Basquiat, one Jackson Pollak, and one Ellsworth Kelly; simply because they had a style and everything else is a derivation of that work, and utilizing the same vocabulary as a means to an end, qualifies me to dismiss it as insignificant.

Not to beat a dead horse, but much as you think color field painting is dead, it�s alive and well on the third floor of 49 Geary with the exciting new twist that it�s color field with encaustic. In that same gallery, the artist decided to show very abstract works, masonite globbed and smeared thickly with paint. It looked like their palettes were selling more then the pieces on canvas, as there were red dots a-plenty on the side with the gooey paintings.

As far as sculpture goes, Brancusi must be flipping over in his grave for the blatant rip-off of bird. Basically it was another bronze penis called �Cloud�; a masculine form 3 times the scale of the original �bird� demanding a good many US dollars, complete with an artist statement which I found laughable.

Personally, my interest in the Bay Area art scene lies in that mysterious world of new genres / video / performance and tech. The San Francisco Art Institute was the first art school to offer such a program and there is a history of weird things in the bay area from the 60�s on. And you�d think with the proximity to Silicon Valley, there would be many great digital installations and video work. No such luck.

The only redeeming work I found was in photography, a breath of fresh air from the painting, installation, and video crap. I know taste is subjective, but remember I am the Art Cynic.

Anyway, the prints were lush, big, shiny, colorful, and there were lots of them. And that was the same gallery! The photo galleries all had good shows, ranging in scope from traditional small black and white landscapes to contemporary Gurskyesque color-mammoths. Small to large, portraiture to landscape, quazi affordable 600.00 to a whopping 17,000 for a 36×42� c-print, there was something for every taste.

The repetitions and redundancies of the non-photographic work, are geared for an art buying public. While popular, they don�t really convey any grand revelations about the artist who created the pieces, nor have any content at all really, but I bet they�d look great in the reflection of a 52 inch plasma TV over the leather couch.

If you�re not getting the point, I would contend it�s pretty evident that the people who are present on this evening of �face-time� are not the artists themselves, nor the �art buying public�

49 Geary exists because of the wannabe�s. Artists go because they can see who is getting shows, and bitch about how their work is better (me) and maybe they can talk to curators, and gallery directors. The general public goes to see how �the other half� lives, and this is their excuse to dress up in their best beret, prance around with artists (not the ones who did the work) and feel important.

If you could put all of the work into one word it would be disappointing, as much fun as I�m having bashing this night, I emphasize that this is probably, if you�re a �career� artist, a very, very important experience, as it lets you know not who the art buying public are, but who they wish they were.

My honest opinion is that because the 49 Geary venue is such a well known event the very people who would most likely purchase a high ticket item wont be there because if they truly appreciate luxury, they�re not coming to an overcrowded meat market filled with so many people that they can�t investigate the work�so the question is why do we as artists or john Q. Public go to first Thursdays? Bottom line, it�s fun, there are two kinds of refreshments: whine for the artists, and of course wine for everybody else.

Casey and Brian and I all piled into “God Bless John Wayne” and rode up to Novato, I got so into talking about computers that Casey and I didn’t see the exit and we were in the middle of the sticks before we caught that one…blame Brian…

Anyway once we got there, it was pretty empty, and we just hit the half pipe for a while. Casey really digs his new stick, and it shows he was ripping some pretty pop out rock to fakies and some major grindage, but all of us are still working on pumping the bowl.

*break for Jack in the Box*

After we got back the bowl opened up a bit and C and I were trying to get around at a little higher speed, with minimal success…guess we’ll have to head back this weekend.

We came back pretty wrecked; tired, and busted, hippers on both sides and a new elbow for C, and a slam on the sore right knee for me *from over committing on a 50-50 drop in* and a busted left hip from trying to pump-it a bit too hard.

Crocker Amazon with Kev tomorrow.