The first monumental paradigm shift in my life came with the anticipation of moving to Santa Barbara, California, to reside with my father, step-mother (DM), and my two half-brothers, with a little sister on the way. I arrived with just one suitcase packed with clothes, a bursting duffel bag stuffed with Thrasher magazines, a shoebox overflowing with cassette tapes, and, of course, my trusty skateboard. Back in those days, traveling light was the norm. It reminds me of a scene from a movie featuring Harry Dean Stanton, where his entire wardrobe fits neatly into a single medium-sized suitcase—quite a contrast to the overpacked journeys of today's travelers.
But amidst the essentials, I also carried emotional baggage—a weighty burden that filled a medium-sized U-Haul box truck. The scars of my childhood and narrowly avoiding a felony charge for the bar robbery and possession of firearms haunted me as I embarked on this new chapter of my life. I was given two years of probation and a misdemeanor charge.
At 16, I found myself in a strange land, a stranger among strangers. Living with a father I barely knew, I felt like a transplant from a small Midwestern town, thrust into the hills of Montecito like a character from the Beverly Hillbillies. Instead of hay between my teeth, I had a wad of Skoal chewing tobacco in my cheek.
Sharing a room with my two half-brothers, I felt like an outsider in my own family. They had their bunk beds on one side, while I had my mattress on the other. With a seven and eight-year gap between us, they seemed worlds apart. I envied their bond with our father, built on shared history and cherished memories. I, on the other hand, felt like a silent observer, a documentary filmmaker studying the dynamics of family life.
Despite the challenges, Santa Barbara offered a glimmer of hope. Surrounded by majestic mountains and the endless expanse of the ocean, the air felt fresher, filled with possibilities. For the first time, I dared to believe that there might be a path forward for me, away from the familiar trappings of my past.
Station Break: AS I am writing this I sit here in Santa Barbara, the crisp air fills my lungs with a sense of renewal. I needed this break. The past six months have been a relentless uphill battle, and I've felt like I've been backed into a corner, with my hopes, dreams, and life slowly fading away. But now, an unexpected opportunity has emerged to come out to SB, and I'm basking in the warmth of the sun for the first time in what feels like an eternity. It's as if the weight has been lifted from my shoulders, and a glimmer of hope has returned.
Yet, there's still a lingering heaviness that shadows my thoughts. Despite this, I'm determined to push through and write this. Could this be another turn on my hero's journey, another adventure waiting to unfold? I'm yearning for a paradigm shift, for new goals to chase after. After all, goals are the seeds that nurture hope and dreams. But truth be told, I'm unsure of what lies ahead or even what I truly desire.
While I don't have many photos from my early days in Santa Barbara stored on my laptop, I'm compelled to go out and capture the essence of the road I once called home, and whatever else catches my eye.
My father ran his own construction company, and during the summer months, I found myself on the crew at construction sites. Admittedly, I wasn't much help. I tried my hand at various trades, but it never quite clicked for me. In the end, I was relegated to cleaning up the site and organizing things, which suited me just fine. The trades weren't my calling; I had a deeper passion for the arts.
Transportation was a bit of a challenge since I didn't have a car. The house was perched atop a steep hill at the base of the mountains, and the incline of the road was so steep that I didn't even dare to skate down it. Plus, the road was in rough shape. Instead, I spent a lot of my time skating in the carport and sidewalk, practicing my ollie on the sidewalk. Looking back, it must have been a bit noisy and annoying.
Skating became my sanctuary. When I moved to SB, I found some of my closest friends through skating, some of whom I still keep in touch with today. It was also the first connection I had with my younger brother, MA. Through skating, I delved into the worlds of music, art, and fashion. It propelled me into the next phase of my life and forged lasting friendships. Without it, I'm not sure how I would have met new people.
The forecast predicts rain in SB over the next few days. I'm determined to soak up as much free vitamin D, fresh air, and fresh perspective as possible. It's time to focus on my intentions for moving forward with my goals, hopes, and dreams!
I will push through to get my writing groove back and together we will continue this adventure down the yellow brick road. Because, because, because……
A heartfelt thank you to everyone who takes the time to read my substack. I deeply appreciate each and every subscriber and follower who joins me on this adventure. A special shoutout to the paid subscribers—you are truly amazing.
Love and Light, Mister Moyer.
Speaking of Dreams. Here are some great pieces that I have been listening to recently to help bring me peace and solace.
Harmonia Live 1974 Dream Music
Brian Eno’s new track Reflection
Harmonia with Eno ‘76 Tracks and Traces