MISC // 01 DEC 2023
A WORD FROM THE EDITOR
In skateboarding and freestyle skiing, a transition is when an athlete goes from riding a horizontal surface to a vertical one. Think a half pipe or vert ramp. From afar it doesn’t seem that challenging, the rider just has to stay on their board/skis, right?
Unfortunately, as I found out the hard way, that’s not the case. While your brain may be saying ‘up’, your body and the momentum it carries all say ‘forward’. There is a subtle shift in weight that needs to happen to make the physics all work. I am not very good at transitions.
In skiing, transition carries another, older meaning. It is the time between turns. Or more precisely it is that momentary floating sensation a skier feels as they shift from one edge of their ski to another. It feels a bit like flying.
I would say that feeling of floating describes how I’ve felt these last few months pretty well. As with skateboarding, I’m bad at transitions. I like to feel grounded, to have certainty in what direction I’m heading. Right now, everything feels up in the air.
In a way I know I should be grateful for that unease, since a big portion of it stems from Butter. I’ve become comfortable. I have an easy to follow calendar that guarantees a new issue of Butter every three months. I no longer feel challenged. Which means it’s time to take the next step. Unfortunately it feels like I have about a million different staircases in front of me, and I’m not sure which one I want to take.
Faced with a thousand choices, I made the most sensible one I could: painting my apartment.
Perhaps it was the paint fumes, the meditative process of painting a wall, or the satisfaction of completing a project with a definite start and end, but it did help. My mind feels more clear and those staircases less confusing.
It has also reminded me to appreciate these moments of endless possibility. In skiing, I often chase that feeling of flying down the snow. Why shouldn’t I embrace it off the mountain as well?
And don’t worry, if I find myself feeling a little lost again, I’ve got a set of shelves to build next.
Thank you to all the athletes who took the time out of their days to share their stories with me. To Hannah and Elizabeth who both reached out to contribute their pieces. To my lovely editor Emma, whose help is worth multiple days of vacuuming cobwebs from the beams of a basement. And to you my dear reader, for being here and reading my words, thank you.
As always, take care and have fun out there.