I wanted to take this week to share some of my own creative work. I’m currently working on my Senior Studio thesis project at Stamps–a semester or year-long individual project. My thesis specifically focuses on skate culture in Ann Arbor. Skating Tree Town is an extended zine publication about Ann Arbor skateboarding culture, specifically documenting the 1980s – present. Since stepping foot on my first Spongebob skateboard in second grade, to cruising around campus as a college student, to committing myself to learning to finally ollie this summer, I have always been interested in skateboarding on a social and artistic level. Because Ann Arbor is a place where people aren’t afraid to “let their freak flag fly” I hope to highlight the unique voices of Ann Arbor skaters, who range greatly in identity but all connect through a shared love for skateboarding. The end goal for my project is to release a book that chronicles Ann Arbor skate history, its implications in contemporary culture, and the individuals within it, sharing the passion of Ann Arbor skateboarding with others.

For the past two months, I have been interviewing and photographing skateboarders at various locations around the city, from the Diag, to the Ross building, to the skatepark, and many in between. Sometimes interviews are planned weeks in advance, other times involve an impromptu photoshoot with a stranger. I’ve also been fortunate to even talk to and skate with Dug Song, the CEO of Duo and longtime Ann Arbor skateboarder, as well as the Ann Arbor Skatepark Board. From all of these interviews and photos, I’ve been utilizing my graphic design skills to add my own touch to the publication. Below are some unedited shots from the upcoming project, hope you enjoy!

Hello everyone!

I hope you all are holding strong in these challenging final few days before break.

This weeks piece is on the topic of cooking and how it can be more than just something you do when you can’t afford anymore take-out.

I really do believe that there is something special to it. A friend of mine loves to see the first bite when someone tastes her food, she says seeing the person’s face makes all the work worth it. Now, she is probably a trillion times better than me at cooking in general, but I think the same rule generally applies. When I do cook, and I really put all of what I can into it, I don’t feel rewarded when I eat it myself, or even when I have it for leftovers the next day. It’s when I share it with my roommates and I know that they like it. That quiet acknowledgement in a mouthful of food is something else.

I also tried to illustrate how much artistry can go into cooking. I’m not at a level where this applies, but I’ve seen actual chefs who do it for more than just a living, you know? And they get the idea that what they are making is really keeping that person, their customer, alive. Like, poetry and movies are great and all, but no matter how many Shakespeare monologues you watch you’ll still be hungry. A cook has that genuine physical connection to their “audience”, which is so unique and beautiful. And obviously I agree that the need for things like poetry and other arts is just that, a need. But the yearning for purpose through language is different than just being super hungry, and I think it’s okay to celebrate that difference.

And then of course, you have the hypocrisy. I value the craft of cooking and admire those who are good at it so much, yet I almost always seem to resort to the cheap and quick meal at the end of the day. I have gotten better since I was a kid, but I’ve still a long way to go before I don’t reach for the Blue Box more often than not.

-Jonah J. Sobczak

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