<![CDATA[7PLY EPIC - HOME]]>Sat, 18 Jul 2020 09:47:05 -0400Weebly<![CDATA[OBX]]>Fri, 17 Jul 2020 01:39:30 GMThttp://www.7plyepic.com/home/obxHe looked up at the sky, his construction orange shades pointed toward the beaming sun. Sweat trickled down the contour of his brow and then the side of his cheek. Under high summer temperatures, the ocean waves crashed loudly yet peacefully, repeatedly, reliably.

His pupils were enlarged despite the growing light in his direction. The colors of the sky were more vivd than ever. Turning his face down toward the horizon, there were dozens of happy humans. Frolicking in the surf and on the shore, they smiled and drank and ate and swam. Under the direction of summertime.

Breeze developed. Noises buzzed around him. Louder. Louder. Just behind him, a white pick-up truck, its passengers motioning their arms to direct him to the side of their path. Drum and bass permeated his immediate atmosphere, and off they went. As the music faded, so did his interest in his current location. Onward to the shoreline.
Picture
The Atlantic Ocean
Slow directive steps lead him in a sure path to the cure of his hot sweat. At the same pace, he strode into the ocean and fell into the curl of a blue-green waveform.​ The sounds of voices and ocean spray transitioned to those of an underwater gurgle and a deep swish. The retreating wave dragged its mass across his naked body. He emerged to pursue another. Deep in the rhythm of bodysurfing.

Another set. Out to the beach. Another bump. Submerge again. Another set. Another set. Out to the beach. Sandwich. Beer. Life seemed so simple in that moment. Now. Recalling that memory, it was perfect. But then, it was everything. There was nothing else. There was no home. No destination. No timeline. Only the next interaction.The next sensation. The next wave, the next sustenance.

The most simple moments are his favorite ones. When ten minutes is the cycle of immediate action, of life. They can seem so elusive when, in "normal" life, plans are made by increments of 48 hours or 14 days. Now, that the pace of life has been upturned for many by the pandemic, it is crucial to remember this moment. Not the last one, but THIS one. It's all we have. I hope yours is in a beautiful place.

June 2020
 - 7Ply Epic
]]><![CDATA[Alone at Home]]>Fri, 29 May 2020 02:34:55 GMThttp://www.7plyepic.com/home/alone-at-home​Just after a wildly fun weekend with all of my best college friends, I decide to "re-quarantine" myself in my hometown. I can't overemphasize how jovial it was celebrating my 30 years on this Earth, but something seems hopeless now, just 24 hours after. At the initial peak of the comedown.

The rubber band effect: We hope for the best but resist what is too good to be true.

Here I am again.
No stranger to these parts but
I don't feel at home.

Pedaling slowly, stuck at a sluggish pace I envied out west but feel trapped in here.
Brown turns to green, just after a flight across COVID country.
We don't think anything is different until it's right there in front of our eyes.
Been feeling conflicted for quite a while. Here its manifests itself, although I'm just across the street from my own mother.
I love her and here so much. Yet what is keeping me here in this mood?
Nothing is outside of our control. But almost everything seems to be. Raining tomorrow. Fuck. Thunder comes. Okay.

May 2020
​ - 7Ply Epic
]]><![CDATA[Quarantined Thoughts]]>Tue, 28 Apr 2020 05:44:19 GMThttp://www.7plyepic.com/home/quarantined-thoughtsArtists are sexier than utilitarians.
Everyone wants to be a work of art,
not a piece of work.
But pieces of work pay the bills,
works of art more rare.
Be a piece of work of art. Now there's an idea.
The practical artist survives.

Apr 2020
 - 7Ply Epic]]><![CDATA[39]]>Mon, 13 Apr 2020 03:48:16 GMThttp://www.7plyepic.com/home/39It had been weeks. The slow-paced weeks that only led to the next, and no one seemed to keep track of the days. As if time were still. As if. It was a Sunday morning.

He had been coping with the loneliness of the lockdown in his own little world. His head full of thoughts, good and bad. Ups and downs. The vices helped soften the thoughts. Another week had lent its bike rides, short skate sessions, copious reading, and intermittent boredom. Alone. After a full-day hangover, it was past time to rise from that mundane bed of his. He remembers when that bed didn't seem so mundane. At an early hour, he prepared his coffee and breakfast, ready to begin his day in its entirety.

With mask equipped, layers of clothing, coffee, & snacks in tow, he mechanically fastened his seatbelt. Backed out the driveway, swung the steering wheel to the right. Now, accelerating north on that first street. A dozen turns later, he approached the highway. Ten miles in, he exited to advance into the National Forest. The only place anywhere nearby that seemed to cling to any of its normalcy. The birds continued to chirp, the roads continues to wind, and the roadside litter remained where it had been placed by irresponsible visitors.

The region's unseasonably heavy rains made for an abnormal lush greenery in the foothills. Beautiful. Still alone. He could smell his own breath in his mask and removed it, placing it on the passenger's seat. Shotgun was reserved for that mask now, never for another human. He wonders how long this would last. Card games, comedy specials, and The Economist lost their appeal in the new world shaped by the virus.
Picture
just before breaking through the clouds.
It could be worse. He wasn't scared. In fact, we was probably past the point of fear and nestling firmly into something part-frustration, part-hopelessness, part-depression. He would hope to have a video call later that day with family. It was Easter after all, for those who celebrated the fictional resurrection of a paranormal man. Would have never been able to tell if it wasn't for the internet. In the thickest of the fog, he approached a closed gate with an aluminum sign boldly labeled ROAD CLOSED. Still about six miles from his "destination," this would be fine. The clouds had reduced visibility so dramatically that the "view" from here would be just as grey & flat as the one from "the top."

Turning to his left to enter a cliffside parking lot, he inched along slowly as to not hit a car or pedestrian all but visible from a mere 20 feet away. As he shifted into PARK and turned off the engine, he heard the revving of many others in that same parking lot. A large group of car racing enthusiasts had apparently also been contained by the ROAD CLOSED signage, and they were all here making noise together. With the noise from their treasured engines and the friendly shit talking from their own voices. He picked up that mask from the adjacent seat and opened his card door to have a look around. There were two faint outlines of cars there for his eyes to see, but there must have been at least fifteen vehicles there. Staying close to the berm separating the lot from a steep drop into the mist. He explored, the space that was obviously smaller than it seemed, these thick clouds shrouding reality.

Without the view to ogle at, he returned to his car to read his magazine. Learning the newest nuances of the deeply rooted issues in Mozambique. They put his own loneliness and the problems of first-world Los Angeles in proper perspective. Letting the magazine and mask fall to the car seat, counted to ten Mississippi. He had heard the racing pack depart downhill in their hypebeast haste.. Turned the key in his ignition and slowly advanced back to the 39. Headed south towards home. He would have a video call with family. The first half of another day in the books.

Progress.

Apr 2020
​ - 7Ply Epic
]]><![CDATA[Bummer Strummer]]>Wed, 25 Mar 2020 04:24:04 GMThttp://www.7plyepic.com/home/bummer-strummerThis blog was meant to reflect on situations past and thoughts & lessons from them. But with the current COVID-19 outbreak and crisis, it is hard for me to divest my thoughts from it.

During the last two weeks of mainstream concern (here in LA), its psychological and physiological effects on me are too varied to assess. At first, a cancelled trip to New York with one day's notice was stressful enough to cause a common cold. I couldn't solidify a decision, mainly because I loved visiting the city so much. But I am now glad that I made the decision that I did. As the slow days of cancelled plans and public uncertainty developed, I was in a weightless-like state of good and bad all around me. I had the lounging freedom of a mellow work-from-home week, but it was raining. Which made it all the more eerie and alarming. During the week I was supposed to be gone, it rained 6 of 7 days, and that normally would be enough to have me feeling anxious to get outdoors.

People were beginning to panic. Toilet paper and purified water (idiotically enough) were disappearing from the shelves. The gravity of the coronavirus spread situation hadn't fully set in yet, but concern and misinformation were setting people off. I'm lucky and happy to have the home that I do. I'm confident that I can stay at home constantly and comfortably. But even I began to hold concern. The stress disappeared less and less often.
Picture
Northeast Los Angeles
Social situations was clearly more difficult, and this would continue to happen for quite sometime. By default, dating was less likely to be fun or rewarding. And this weighed on me much more than I had foreseen. Isolation, in one way or another, causes loneliness (at least I haven't mastered the art of defeating that). And these are lonely times. We hope to return to our "normal lives" very soon. But I think things will get far worse before they improve. And it is clear now that we are living through a significant year in modern world history. 

I. Settle In. Settle the fuck in and enjoy breathing. This first week has been tough, but this was Chapter One. Keep a positive mind - one that you think might hold up for 8 months.

II. Take Care of one another. Watch foot traffic in the grocery stores and make room. Smile at strangers (we all need it!). Be nice. If you'd been meaning to get around to doing that, this is your big shot! This, though it might seem backwards, means staying away from others. If you don't already know why this is true, do a little online research and you'll quickly see. Fighting the infection is the the priority, but preventing its spread is the part we can all play.

Keep Those Heads Up. I say that as much for myself as for others.

Mar 2020
 - 7Ply Epic
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