A Brief History of Mine…

I can clearly recall the first time I came across Southbank. Photos of Eric Dressen replete in blue Thrasher hoodie, Air Jordan’s and a back to front flat cap appeared in an article in what I think was still BMX Action Bike (or possibly an early incarnation of its re-branding as R.A.D.) circa 1987. Despite living about 550 miles away, in an era before each of Britain’s towns and cities had their own purpose-built skatepark or Council provided mini-ramp, it felt as if we knew these far off spots. Latimer Road, Meanwhile and Southbank became part of our vocabulary.

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Southbank in particular sent us out searching for something similar, for architectural features we could see through a different lens and where we could unlock new potential.  We discovered the tight transition of the brick banked walls at Denburn Health Centre, a couple of mounds of concrete in Bridge of Don, an empty fountain in a public park, the smooth concrete of multi storey car parks, flights of stairs, hand rails, benches and walls that we would regularly wax. We dotted around our city on buses, on foot and by skateboard re-marking the map with new place names and spots we could session. In a pre-internet or social media age, it still baffles me how we found some of the places or people that we did. We began to scour Scotland after hearing rumours of fly off ramps or home-made half-pipes. Our trips took us from Aberdeen to Dundee and Livingston and to little known places far from the beaten track….to fun comps in Elgin or Keith and a host of other places.

I stopped skating at some point in 1991. Life was transitioning, but skating never really left me. I would regularly look at flights of stairs, curbs, embankments or a host of other pieces of public realm and find my mind subconsciously mapping out the possibilities. Flurries into snowboarding and surfing were all probably derived from the simple pleasure of the glide, so beautifully captured in the short video below.

On the relatively rare occasions that I’ve been in London over the years, I’ve often walked along the Southbank to watch those skating at the Undercroft. When a few of my surfer friends bought longboard skateboards for those landlocked or flat days, there was huge appeal coupled with a degree of self-consciousness. Whilst I found a new form of self-consciousness if caught rolling along on a set of 78As by parents of my kid’s friends or work colleagues, it was altogether usurped by a long-lost love of skating. One thing led to another and I began to skate the local skate park under the cover of darkness or when it was relatively empty. It’s funny how many other elder-skatesmen I have met – either those who never gave it up in the first place or others, like myself, who have had the stoke re-kindled through surfing or through their kids discovering skating for themselves.

Southbank’s creative arc has extended far beyond its natural reach over the past couple of years. With the Southbank Centre’s proposals to create a new festival wing at the cost of redeveloping the Undercroft, the struggle that has ensued has seemed like one of David and Goliath proportions and, yet, one that seems inherently conflicted. Why seek to foster and promote creativity and culture at the cost of decimating a rare place where those very things have abounded organically for close to 40 years? Southbank is a living British example of words penned by Craig Stecyk back in 1975, “Two hundred years of American technology has unwittingly created a massive cement playground of unlimited potential, but it was the minds of 11 year olds that could see that potential”. There have been plenty of points over the past 24 months where it has looked as if the Undercroft would be replaced by retail units and lost forever. I’m sure that I’ve regularly bored people about this on my social media feeds…

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Last year one of my surfer friends took his family to London for the day. In recognition of the threat facing Southbank they bookended their day with a visit there.They were so moved at seeing and experiencing things first hand. Their two young boys really engaged with the skaters at the Long Live Southbank campaign table. Paul wrote me a lovely letter all about their day and the impact that visiting Southbank had upon them as a family. They also very generously sent me a T-shirt, badges and a pile of stickers. A plan was hatched that we would spend a day in London as families and that the day would include a visit to the Undercroft if it was still there. At that point I genuinely wondered whether its fate would be determined before the end of 2013.

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So, this weekend we made the journey and, quite simply, had one of the most perfect weekends I can recall. There were many highlights and I’m amazed at how much we crammed into a single day. The kids all got skate lessons at the hugely impressive House of Vans whilst Paul and I also managed a free skate session in the amazing indoor concrete bowl and street course there. We surveyed London’s staggering skyline from the vantage point of the London Eye and made it out to Moredon Park to catch a rare London gig by The Grenaways which also gave us the chance to carve out some sacred time with a couple of very special surfer friends from Cornwall. In amongst it all, we made it to Southbank.

After enjoying the patter of the street performers and a quick look at the Southbank Centre’s “Festival of Love”, we ambled along to the Undercroft from where the sound of wheels rolling on flag-stones and the thwack of ollies was drawing us.

On Saturday, for the first time we became participants rather than spectators. My tricks were far from technical and I found myself flat on my back on more than one occasion when I failed to land a re-entry out of the bottom of the banks. What struck me, however, was how welcoming and respectful the vibe was. There was no sense of it being for locals only or of there to be some sort of rite of passage or initiation process. Our kids rolled around and no-one seemed in the least bit put out by that. There was an authentic sense of acceptance and community. I was so stoked to be cruising, popping and rolling along the banks that have accommodated the wheels of many skate legends and locals for almost as long as I have inhabited this earth.

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As we headed off to the London Eye, there was just enough time for my daughter to add her signature to those supporting the campaign to save the Undercroft. As I proudly watched her choosing to add her voice to the campaign, I noticed that I was stood next to pro-skater and contemporary artist, Ed Templeton who was doing exactly the same. I overcame my natural disposition not to engage and told him how much I have thoroughly enjoyed his curating of the latest edition of Huck magazine. He was engaging and I spent a few genuinely beautiful moments chatting to Deanna and him about some of the things their articles and work have caused me to think about and be inspired by. I wrote a blog post about some of that last month and you can read that by clicking here. Ed was happy to pose for a selfie and then helpfully suggested how I could shoot a better one which we then took. As if I wasn’t stoked enough already! What a happy coincidence.

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So, there you have it. The ramblings of a 42-year-old who has been in a long-term long-distance relationship with Southbank for more years than I care to remember and who eventually got to skate it this weekend. Sharing that experience with friends, family, strangers and people whose contribution to skate culture I have respected for years was pretty sweet!

You can’t move history.

Long Live Southbank.

B.

In Her Own Words….

One of the things that I’m keen to develop is the sound of voices other than my own on the blog.  So, I was delighted when one of my fellow Soul Surfers, Laura Anne, sent me some musings by email.  Here they are in her own words.  Enjoy:
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“Every now and again, I have this image of me getting up early in the morning, driving my car to the beach and diving into the sea with my surfboard, surfing the waves in the morning sun.

And then I realise that’s only ever happened once.

6 years ago in fact.

When I was staying in Byron Bay, Australia (though I walked to the beach 2 minutes away!)

The thing is that image is but a fantasy of what I’d love my life to be like.  The truth is that I’m a lassie who lives in Scotland who: doesn’t really know how to surf; doesn’t own a surfboard; hates mornings; can’t stand being cold and; whose car has been sitting in a driveway for 6 months broken (that’s another story…a tale of a girl’s weird attachment to her constantly breaking Vauxhall Corsa).  I’m a city blossom and a girl who only likes to be outside when the temperature hits 20 C or above.

So why then, am I part of Soul Surfers?

Partly because I’m in love with the idea of surfing waves.  I’ve always lived near the sea.  I grew up in Leith, home now of the Royal Yacht Britannia.  It didn’t have a beach, but there was something comforting about being near the sea.  I left Leith aged 17 for the North East Scotland to study in Aberdeen.  Aberdeen is a city with granite, oil workers, mutant seagulls and students…and a beach.  That beach became my sanctuary during my student years.  Any time the sun came out during exam leave, I’d call my friends and see if they’d come with me on a quick beach trip.  We’d clamber into my Corsa, drive down, get out, have a few cartwheels, write messages in the sand, maybe go for a quick paddle in the shallow waves and then run back to my car and home again to study.

So I guess that’s your answer.

The beach is my sanctuary.

Making footprints in the sand, running with or into the wind, smelling the sea air…

Sitting alone watching the waves crash onto shore to clear my mind…

Strolling beside friends having important conversations…

Running, cartwheeling, skipping or doing the ‘monkee walk’ with friends and family of all ages and stages…

Friendships grow on those sands.

I could tell you a hundred stories of days spent on beaches. Watching the sunrise on the dunes of Balmedie just with a group of church friends on summer solstice.  Standing with two long-time friends as the waves broke over our feet and ankles at the most Southern point of Victoria.  A friendship that began walking a long a windy beach on New Year’s Day.  My friend’s son running towards the sea, faceplanting into a pool, spouting out the seawater from his mouth, getting up and continuing his run toward the ocean.  That same boy screaming at the injustice of being picked up and carried away from the waves kicking and screaming by one of his parents as he was turning blue with cold.  Those mean parents who didn’t want him to drown or get hypothermia! 😉  Being taught to swim in the Aegean Sea by my mother’s friends.  The piles of books I read on the beaches of Greek Islands as a kid.  Wandering through caves on the coast of Italy.  Being shown all the protected sea turtle nests on Komos Beach. Six 20-somethings returning to Edinburgh looking like lobsters after day on the White Sands of Morar.  The men who trudged up and down the beach in Altinkum shouting ‘Fanta-Cola-Biera-Sprite’ and ‘Apple Pie, Apple Cookie’ all afternoon long.  My little sister frozen to the rocks we’d clambered over and screaming hysterically when the stone my Dad was throwing over our heads into the sea landed smack on my forehead instead.

This is why I’m part of Soul Surfers, and why I love Soul Sundays.  I love making these memories with friends old and new (though I’m quite happy not to repeat that last one).  I’d love for you (yes, you who is reading this) to be part of it, because I love meeting new people, making new friends as I walk across the sand to a good cartwheeling place.  And maybe you’ll be the person who coaxes me into those icy Scottish waves!

The Art Of Joy.

The title of this blog comes from an art exhibition and series of gigs a few of us organised when we commandeered a bistro in Edinburgh’s Grassmarket a few years ago.  That served as a precursor to pushing us out into some new territory…

Most of us have come to appreciate social networks.  It’s nice to know what people we are interested in are up to.  All of us want to belong and, for a variety of reasons, we can find a connection on-line.  I still love a song from the early ’80’s with the title, “Are Friends Electric?”  Interesting question…

One of my hopes when I first started the Soul Surfers blog was that it would connect some people meaningfully.  With that in mind, some of us have deliberately sought to embark upon some road trips to develop existing “virtual” friendships into something more than that.  So with that in mind, a few of the Edinburgh crew loaded up some cars with surfboards, skateboards, picnic supplies and a blank sheet of paper and headed north to Aberdeen on Saturday night.

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After weeks of fairly poor weather, we were greeted with bluebird skies, sunshine and the sense of adventure that a mini-roadtrip brings.  Laura Anne and Michael decided to pay City Church a visit in the morning.  They came along to our beach gathering at lunchtime positively radiant from the welcome they had received and the time they had spent there.  A crowd congregated at the Beach Boulevard and new faces and old acquaintances met together to share out food and drinks, stories and laughs.  There are moments when the everyday seems to become somehow sacred.

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After a while, plans were hatched.  Some of the group decided a surf was in order and managed to catch a couple of hours out in the North Sea.  It’s the furthest North Michael has surfed so, despite the waves being a little mushy, he bagged 10 or 12 decent rides along the green faces and came back in with his usual hallmark Cheshire Cat grin.  Whilst that was happening a few of the others opted for a Soul Sundae.

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Upon reconvening, a selection of longboard skateboards were shared around and enjoyed.  Laura Anne was determined to give it a proper go and looked pretty natural in no time.

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I had hoped to catch up with a few old friends at the War Of The Thistles Skateboard competition that was happening at Transition Skate Park.  Instead, I spent a couple of hours at Aberdeen Accident and Emergency having my thumb and wrist X-rayed!  Gnarly, is not the word….really, it isn’t…I’m embarassed to confess, but, the damage was sustained simply by going to sit down on a grassed embankment whilst chatting over a picnic and landing awkwardly on my thumb.  The instant swelling, blue colouring and complete draining of blood from my face was quite a sensation, so off to A & E I went.  What followed was a really fantastic heart to heart with my sister in the waiting room which probably wouldn’t have occurred on the beach…and then there was the entertainment of another “patient” who was a little the worse for wear and who ended up with their arm stuck in the vending machine whilst bemoaning their simple drunken desire for Malteasers…

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The Facebook messages, tweets and texts from various folks gathered yesterday all tell their own stories.  The over-arching word or theme seems to be that of “joy”.  Sometimes, we just make a loose plan, invite some friends to join us and see what unfolds.  I think our Soul Sundays simply seek to create time and space to enable that to occur.  How that gets filled is regularly a delight to observe.

I have the sense that this is still only the start of something much bigger.  There will be more road-trips ahead and more memories created.

One of the other members of our crew threw down the gauntlet of trying to fit some board related activity into every day of the year.  You can follow our escapades on his great new blog 365 Days Of  Stoke.  So, whilst we were in Aberdeen he and his wife were in Northern Ireland sharing much of the same Celtic Aloha!

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Soul Sunday – 5th May 2013

I still find it quite amazing to think that what started out as an idea and a blog gradually developed into a bit of a “virtual community” and then into something more tangible.  This week alone, several of us have messaged one another and got together to for a soul session involving a surf or skate.

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We’ve begun to establish some rhythms too.  Last night our house was buzzing with laughter, life and conversation as eight of us from Edinburgh and Glasgow shared stories, ideas, observations, hopes, concerns, bread, wine and a host of other food.  How I hope that an open back gate every Tuesday at 8pm translates into an open invite to anyone who wants to gather around our table in Edinburgh to do life together.  We’ve called these gatherings, Soul Food with the aspiration that these times together feed more than just our tummies.

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We’ve also started trying to carve out some time together on the first Sunday of the month and to invite any of our friends to join us.  These get togethers have involved a variety of formats in a variety of places.

This Sunday, 5th May, a few of us will be making a road trip 120 or so  miles north to Aberdeen.  There are several people up there who read the blog or belong to an associated facebook group.  So, we’re hoping to meet up with some more like-minded soul surfers and learn a bit about the local scene and see if we can forge some stronger and meaningful friendships and connections.  It won’t all be serious and is every bit as much about having fun, whilst also building and nurturing friendships.

The plans are fairly fluid and each of us have some friends in Aberdeen who we’re hoping to see.  We aim to meet at the Beach Boulevard at 1pm. If the weather’s nice we’ll maybe have a bit of a picnic (so bring some food) and if it’s not so good, we’ll take cover in one of the cafes there.  We’ll probably end up on the beach and if there’s some swell, then I suspect that some of the group will try and catch a surf together.

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The War Of The Thistles 2013 skate comp is also headed up to the Transition Skate Park at the Boulevard in Aberdeen on Sunday afternoon.  Things kick off there from 2pm, so I expect you’ll find me and some of the others along there for a bit and catching up with some familiar faces.  All the info about the comp is here.

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It would be good to see anyone who wants to come along.  I’ll be the tall thin one with the beard, glasses and red, white and blue pom-pom hat with the words “Pretty Sweet” on it.  Alternatively drop me a text or give me a call on 07836 369128.

B.

Livi in the past, Livin’ On A Prayer or Living In The Now…

When I was growing up, I used to find it odd when my Gran would talk about “the good old days”.  To my adolescent ears, it sounded like she was harping on about a primitive era.  With hindsight, I realise that she was probably just reminiscing about times gone by.  It also strikes me as intriguing now that she may have viewed post-war Ireland as better than the “brave new world” of the early ’80’s under Thatcher.

All of us like to look back from time to time.  I sometimes wonder whether we will lose the tinge of nostalgia conjured up from old photo albums in an age where we increasingly store our images in digital archives?  When I do stumble across old photos, they often make me smile.  Moments captured forever – immortalised somehow.  In my mind’s eye, I may have photo-shopped the finer detail or edited out some of the past.  The soundtrack in my head that accompanied my teenage years only has the cool songs.  Surely, the temporary musical and fashion glitches influenced by trying to impress some girls that my mate Euan and I fancied never really happened… 

I can recall those early teenage years steeped in copies of BMX Action Bike and wanting to be older than my years – somehow yearning for that coming of age or rite of passage.  Any notion of “living in the now” seems intrinsically linked to the irony of Wayne’s World and the vocabulary that infiltrated our lingo at the time of those films.  Desperately uncool as it may be, the sentiment of one time skate-influenced band, Jesus Jones, still kinda rings true for me all these years on.

I came upon a great couple of sentences in a book I was reading the other night.  “Listen to your life: to its passion, its dreams and disappointments, its tedium aswell as its drama.  It came to you as a gift and each day, too, unravels as a gift”.

It’s easy to live in the past – either in fond memories or full of regrets or questions over what might have been.  It’s easy to dream about the future – a time when certain more immediate deadlines or conflicts or issues are resolved.  But, just maybe, the secret is to live in the present and to willingly soak it up and live it to the full?  This moment is all that is certain.  In doing that we create memories that we can fondly look back on.

I stumbled upon some video footage the other week.  I remember these two little snippets of Livi’ Skate Park being on the telly in the 80’s.  In fact, the news coverage of the Bones Brigade visit in 1987 rekindled so many memories of bunking off school on the last day of term to get the train from Aberdeen, of hooking up with the Dundee Hardcore Skate Squad on the way down, of the folly of youth, the throng of skaters sessioning the Almondvale Centre Mall on the way to the skate park and trying to avoid the security guards, the excitement of skating Livi and of seeing some of our heroes shred it up right in front of our eyes.  Those were the days when our Converse Allstars were more colourful, our hair styles more interesting and our clothing more florescent…good times!

Now let’s get out there and create some more memories whilst we’ve got the time…