WORDS & PHOTOS Ali Mehraban
The majority of human emotions can be conjured by the act of skateboarding. The joy of accomplishment, the aggressiveness of persistence, and the fear of failure are felt by all skaters in practice. The unrelenting battle of commitment and frustration, followed by a self-determined conclusion of either radness or sadness, is the alluring method found in all forms of shredding.
Skateboarding entails the freedom to choose—the ability to consciously put yourself on the line. Beyond simply roaming around, many choose to calculate themselves into an equation of risk and reward—hazard equating to happiness, and the only variable being one’s own dedication and skill. With an activity so focused on pushing limits, fear and danger are inevitably around every turn. This implied risk is a fountain of adrenaline—the force driving skaters back for more.
Some cannot be satisfied by lackluster means of thrill consumption. To those certain people, getting sketch is the solution. Building the relationship with sketchiness relies on a will to do what shouldn’t be done. Hucking your buckness across and over monstrous gaps, railing a chunder line sure to wash you out, or pursuing a weirdness which skateboards were never envisioned to experience: these are all motions feeding a hunger to go bigger and badder.
At the heart of all Sultans of Sketch, there lies the urge to conquer the mind while risking the body. Willingly confronting hairball shit is testament to how strong the love for skating can be. Some may try and argue that these sketch-masters have obvious death wishes. However, in coming so close to harm’s way, the appreciation of life is strongly affirmed in a manner known only to those who have seen the edge.