Insta, gotta share this one:
My friend Bones. Too much backstory...but...in 1978 we all lived together in an old house at 7301 Draper Street, right next door to the Andersens, David and Leslie. In an attached studio lived a fully mohawked punk named Liz. In the main house was Buzzy De Philippi, Eddie Brinkman, Jeff Cyr, me, and my brother Pete. Bones lived in a shack he built on the side of the house. Pete and I were still in high school. All of us were teenagers, except Bones, who was in his early 20s. His mother was of the Nez Perce tribe, his dad was a fighter pilot at MCAS Miramar. Their marriage had failed and Bones had been drifting on his own since he was about 15. When I met him he'd already done 3 or 4 trips to Maui, living in a hidden cave at Honolua obscured by a grove of wind sculpted kiawe trees. Bones tapped the essence of surfing more than anyone I've ever known. His surfing was the purest expression of the act I've ever seen. The way he surfed, lived, dressed, valued...it was all on his own terms. Like this portrait I shot of him posted here...that's not some curated fashionista bullshit. That's just Bones, same as he ever was. He treasures his experiences, his boards, his friends, and the secret little shrines he created to live in, be they a candlelit cave, a shack on the side of a house, an abandoned WWII bunker hidden in the chaparral or under a scrub oak in a side canyon at Blacks. The Bones pads were enchanted, every object sacred, significant, and storied. His boards were battered but they were Fryes, Brewers, Diffenderfers, Hynsons...all waiting for a day with worthy waves. I had some crazy experiences with Bones, often on psychedelics. He'd speak in hushed tones about say, his Diffenderfer pintail "it's a Diff, RK, for the Bay, no wave is worthy around here...or he'd whisper about days when the rain washed out the roads to the Bay and he'd emerge from his cave to surf it alone, 10 feet and perfect, under rainbows during breaks in the storm. "Can't put that into words, RK." He had the deepest respect for the Duke. He never wore a leash in his life. "The sport of Kings, gone to the dogs" he used to say. To me, Bones has always been a King. And a fucking wizard too.
Bones is classic, there's a pic here:
https://www.instagram.com/p/BzLaGgwF29Y ... _copy_link