Medium: Acrylic on Canvas
Size: 20″ x 10″
Start a business, find a job, hustle on the side. Sleep on couches, sleep in cars, whatever it takes to get by. Duck dive. Paddle. Duck dive. Paddle. Duck dive. Paddle.
Business goes well, a thousand imitations pop up overnight. Where do they all come from? They say it’s a form of flattery, rarely do they mention it’s also a form of robbery. Duck dive. Paddle harder. Duck dive. What? Duck dive again.
Lose a side job, laid off by the boss that’s half your age, turn up the hustle. Keep getting by. Paddle like mad. Duck dive. Paddle harder. Duck dive. Underwater backflip. Neat. Two quick strokes. Duck dive.
Find a place of your own. An old house with an older landlord. No english spoken. Maybe dutch, or german. Simple life, walk to the beach. Paddle a bit further. Just outside the inner bar now. Check the shore, mind the drift. Back to work. Side jobs keep coming. Who needs a real job? Head down. Keep busy. Race for the horizon between sets, maybe sneak through unscathed.
Landlord dies. What’s next?
Dark wall looms on the outer bar. Scratch like hell at the leaden water.
Nephew inherits place. He’s got plans. You’re not part of them.
Not gonna make it. Forget the duck dive. Straight up dive for deepwater.
Back to the car and couches. Fewer couches now. Many have been caught inside. Car it is. Find an unused attic to work from in the days. Maybe pitch a sleeping bag on a cold night.
Swim in. Recover board on The Beach.
*sidenote: to this day I have never ridden a wave here, only paddled around in vein