5 mars 2013

winter past

Skateboarding and writing don't go well together. Mostly, language aims to pull the world together while good skateboarding blows it apart.
Reading, on the other hand, go well together whith skateboarding, especially when travelling. One passage from Paul Auster's "Invisible" especially sticks, this afternoon in Copenhagen:

"... this is probably the city's most inspiring hour, the transition from work to home, the streets thronged with men and women rushing back to their families, to their friends, to their solitary lives, and he enjoys being outside among them, encircled by the vast collective exhale filling the air."
Unfortunately, the one thing that is filling the air in Copenhagen at rush hour, is petrol and diesel fumes from the thousands of cars brought into the city every day. It is a collective exhale of pollution that fills the air, as commuters wait in long lines, creeping by, slowly burning petrol as if there were no tomorrows.

And then there are places, down the rabbit hole, that are free from cars and the routines of daily, desperate flight from office hours emprisonment...

Back to the subject of writing:
To write can be a slow process, often taking place after the fact. In this sense, many texts on skateboarding have very little in common with skateboarding. There are poetic exceptions, erruptions of symbolic representation and exploriation of further implications, in the present moment. But such texts are heavily outnumbered by reports, articles and retrospective interviews. Visual art and film photography covers more common ground with the momentum of a skateboarding session. Small surprise then, that skaters primarily watch videos and flick through magazines and digital mediums, looking at the photos, skipping most texts. 

 For a text to sync with the mode and mood of skating, it must give up its ambitions to make sense and open up to the spontaneous, incoherent fuck off! that runs deep in the currents of skateboarding energy.

The text you have just read, very much lacks that quality. It dips into one aspect of the presented day in Copenhagen, for the rest it adds completely irrelevant information about contrasting subjects. And working with contrasts - widening the picture beyond what is even remotely present - may be the one path left open, beside the immediately poetic.

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