OSPREY spring 2019
student run magazine
est. 1973
Enter the Dragon A BATTLE WITH IDENTITY & EXPRESSION
Cafe Mokka Coffee House Finnish Country Sauna and Tubs
Outdoor Hot Tubs Traditional Saunas Delicious Coffee
Open Everyday Sun. - Thurs. 11 a.m. - 11 p.m. Friday & Saturday 11 a.m.- midnight
Corner of 5th & J Call 707-822-2228 to reserve. Reservations can be made up to one day in advance. Open on Holidays
EDITORS NOTE 3 NAKED & UNAFRAID 6 Activists bare it all to save the trees.
ENTER THE DRAGON
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A man’s journey of self-discovery.
CONT ENTS FINE TUNED 32 A guitar maker continues a 40-year legacy despite his fight with cancer.
GROWING THE ROOTS OF THE FUTURE 20 First generation college success.
LIVING VIRTUALLY 22 A look into the lives of a digital generation of people who try to learn strictly through watching videos.
ARCPARK ‘TIL DARK 38 ArcPark brings a mix of locals and students together to skate till the sun goes down. OSPREY | 3
EDITOR’S NOTE
OSPREY MAGAZINE Student Run est. 1973 SPRING 2019 STAFF MEGAN BENDER EDITOR IN CHIEF
& LAYOUT EDITOR BAILEY TENNERY PHOTO EDITOR
GABE RIVERA COPY EDITOR
LUIS E. LOPEZ JR. WRITER
NICK KEMPER PHOTOGRAPHER
CONTRIBUTORS CASSAUNDRA CAUDILLO & DEIJA ZAVALA ADVISER VICTORIA SAMA
CONTACT : Osprey Magazine c/o Department of Journalism 1 Harpst St. Arcata, CA 95521 editor@ospreymagazine.com
Osprey is a biannual magazine. Views expressed herein do not represent that of the adviser, faculty, administration, Associated Students of Humboldt State University or Humboldt State University Board of Trustees. 4 |OSPREY
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ho am I? I am a mixed latinx woman, a journalist, a friend, an aunt, a sister and a daughter. I am resilient, dedicated, loving, passionate and as someone once told me I am ‘strong in the broken places.’ When I give others the facts of my being it is not without strong consideration of what it took to shape and define me. In this issue of the Osprey, our cover story takes a closer look at identity and what it means to change what it is that defines you. We take a closer look at the ways we create barriers for ourselves by viewing the world through a screen. And we also recognize the
dedication it takes continue a lifetime’s worth of work even when your body is working against you. If there’s one thing college has taught me its that now is the time to create and explore who you are. I am a 27-year-old student who took the long way around to finish school. I spent years trying to figure out what it was that I was good at and finally journalism found me. I have put all of that discovery, hard work and almost ten years of dedication into my degree and this magazine. I urge you to take some risks and discover what it is that brings you closer to the person you want to see looking back at you in the mirror. It is with great pride that I give you the spring 2019 issue of the Osprey.
Megan Bender Editor-in-Chief Layout Editor mnb26@humboldt.edu
on the cover: David Barnett Jr. , also known as “the Dragon,” poses for a portrait on April 16. Barnett tattooed his face to have control over his identity. | Photo by Megan Bender
Osprey Staff
BAILEY TENNERY JOURNALISM SENIOR
GABRIEL RIVERA JOURNALISM SENIOR
LUIS E. LOPEZ JR. JOURNALISM SENIOR
NICK KEMPER JOURNALISM SENIOR
Bailey came from Vacaville, Calif. When she’s not studying hard or pulling overtime at Blue Lake Casino, she likes to write and get lost in fiction. Broccoli is her favorite vegetable because eating “tiny trees” makes her feel like a giant.Her favorite Humboldt spot is the Arcata Marsh. After graduating Bailey wants to write scripts for TV shows or write a novel.
Gabe is proof that an old dog really can learn new tricks. He’s from San Diego, Calif. When he’s not watching the Padres he’s working on his sports podcast and playing 90’s R&B throwbacks on KRFH 105.1. He spents his free time romping around in the forest and at beach with his dog Reggie. One day he wants to be the lead analyst on fantasy sports for ESPN.
Luis came from Los Angeles, Calif. and doesn’t leave anywhere without headphones so he can listen to his favorite podcast. He plans on moving back to Los Angeles to become a videographer. You can find Luis eating Arcata, Pizza & Deli right before heading to the Minor for a movie or writing his book. His favorite Humboldt memory is when it snowed this winter because it was the first time he had seen snowfall.
Nick grew up in Sarasota, Florida but moved to California when he was 12 years old. He’s a jack of all trades: a skater, a hiker and a photographer. His favorite Humboldt spot to visit in his free time is Agate beach. When he graduates he wants to travel the world and take pictures to protect the planet or work for Sierra magazine.
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BY MEGAN BENDER
A
round 50 men and women grasp tightly onto 1,000-year-old giant redwood trees in Richardson Grove State Park on Highway 101. A hundred yards away photographer and activist Jack Gescheidt captures a shot he calls “Here Before The Prophets.” Gescheidt took the photograph in May 2011 as a protest to Caltrans’
plans to widen the road to make room for large trucks to pass safely through. Push back against the expansion have been ongoing for over 10 years. Construction to widen the road is on hold while Caltrans remains tied up in lawsuits in the Humboldt County Superior Court with local activist groups.
“Here Before The Prophets” by Jack Gescheidt
Gescheidt has done multiple shots like this in Humboldt and Mendocino counties including a photoshoot atop Strawberry Rock in Trinidad. Strawberry Rock is on Green Diamond property southwest of a potential clear cutting project. Gescheidt focuses his projects on land or forests in danger of development or clear cutting. You can find more of his work at his website, TreeSpiritProject.com
“Elemental” by Jack Gescheidt
ENTER THE DRAGON
A man’s battle with identity and expression. PHOTOS AND STORY BY GABE RIVERA
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taring in the bathroom mirror, David Barnett Jr. holds a tattoo gun to his right cheek and presses the trigger to write two letters on his face. Ignoring the pain, he presses the sharp needle against his soft skin.
Blood comes to the surface. He keeps going. “I was in Florida and everyone there thought I was Haitian,” Barnett said. “I’m not fucking Haitian, so I put the CA on my cheek. Then everyone thought I was some crazy California gangster and it was worse. I should’ve just gone with the Haitian thing.” Born and raised on the streets of San Bernardino, California, Barnett’s face was an empty canvas but is now fully tatted with vibrant three-dimensional patterns of reds, yellows and greens. He has spent his life searching for an identity. When he first meets someone, he wants them to judge him on his persona and not his skin color. With a fully tattooed face and clandestine identity, the stage is set for the life that he wants to project. Barnett is a tattoo artist, singer, rapper and mixed martial arts fighter. But one thing he doesn’t want anyone to assume is... “They don’t know I’m black,” Barnett said. “That was the face that God gave me, and I got rid of that. I made my own face. They look at me and they can’t tell what race I am. They have to ask me and a lot of the times it’s when they question whether or not they like me or not and they can’t put a finger on it.” The diagonal, horizontal and vertical shapes blend into one other like a game of Tetris. His forehead bears a symbol from the sacred geometry of the earth. “This is an eight-point star, which represents the heavens and the earth and everything being connected as one,” Barnett said. “That’s my 14 |OSPREY
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They don’t know I’m black. That was the face God gave me, and I got rid of that. I made my own face. They look at me and they can’t tell what race I am.” -David Barnett Jr. “Dragon”
life number. I separate the colors of the stars and there is a trinity in the middle that is a representation of my walk with Christ. From the oceans to the air you’re breathing, to a song in your heart, it got put there from some kind of energy. It came from somewhere and a lot of sacred geometry symbols and patterns symbolize all things being combined together and life beating to one heartbeat.” Nationally recognized psychologist Michael Mantell, Ph.D., spent over 40 years in the field of clinical psychology. His career includes serving as the chief psychologist for Children’s Hospital in San Diego and he was the city’s founding chief psychologist for the police department. Mantell has never met Barnett but
helps explain the significance of Barnett’s tattoos. “People get tattoos as a means of expressing their past and present selves,” Mantell says. “Research tells us that some need proof that they exist at all. They rely on tattoos as a way of understanding who they actually were and are. Some get tattoos to remind them of past family members or ancient sayings or religious scriptures, while others get tattoos to enhance their sexuality or to promote their identity or group affiliation. Tattoos are a way of saying, this is who I am and have been.” “I tattoo myself for memory,” Barnett reminisced. “When I want to remember something that touched my heart and had an impact on my life, I like to tattoo something that symbolizes that.” Barnett had a tough life as a kid. When he was two-years-old, he was placed into foster care. Over time, he bounced from one foster home to another. He says the foster parents he encountered were abusive and never made him feel any kind of love. At around the age of 13, Barnett had enough and ran away. “It was heaven and hell,” Barnett said. “You’re in paradise. You have everything you need. All the action figures you can think of, the nicest clothing, the nicest food but the treatment from the parents wasn’t what it should’ve been. Emotions they couldn’t take out on their own kids they took out on me. We used to be able to get hit. I got beat really bad. It was just one home to the next to the next and finally I went out on my own trying to find friends just to
David Barnett Jr. poses on March 11 underneath the old Redwood Highway bridge.
know what life was.” Mantell suspects that Barnett’s tough time at foster care shaped the way he thinks about life. “He responded to his deep need for control in a life that may have left him feeling he controlled very lit-
tle,” Mantell explains. “It speaks to a strong negative self-rating and his full face coverage tattoos may reflect an attempt to control his personal growth. Perhaps he feels invincible now when he hadn’t while growing up in foster care. Self aggrandize-
ment like this covers true self-loathing, often times. It feeds a negative belief system that leads to conditional self-acceptance that results in needing to change full facial appearance to feel better about oneself. The goal is unconditional self accepOSPREY | 15
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Research tells us that some need proof that they exist at all. They rely on tattoos as a way of understanding who they actually were and are.� -Michael Mantell Retired Psychologist
tance.” At 13-years-old, Barnett was hanging out at Cucamonga-Guastir Regional park in Los Angeles and smoking a joint for his first time with a couple strangers that had just given him a pit-bull. The dog, Tupac, gave him a worried look like it was time to put the leash on and leave the park. But Barnett ignored the dog’s instincts. Five minutes later, the cops showed up and since he had run away from foster care, he was now headed to juvenile hall for truancy, never to see Tupac again. “I met my family for the first time when I was in Juvie,” Barnett explained. “They were doing the Crip gang thing so I’m like trying to be Super Crip for them. It’s hard man. As a pretty boy with braided hair, I didn’t get it really good with whites. I didn’t get it really good with blacks. I was half-breed. You always have to prove yourself.” Just out of the hospital after injuring
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I met my family for the first time when I was in Juvie. They were doing the Crip gang thing so I’m like trying to be super Crip for them. It’s hard man. As a pretty boy with braided hair, I didn’t get it really good with whites. I didn’t get it really good with blacks. I was half-breed. You always have to prove yourself.” -David
Barnett Jr. “Dragon”
his eye in a fight, Barnett was approached by another person looking for trouble. His brother DeAnthony Barnett had the chance to step in but stepped out of the way instead. It was then that Barnett realized he was truly alone. “You get to a point in life where you don’t give a fuck about stuff and you get real cold to things,” Barnett explained. “I think if you get cold to anything it’s the want for more. Why should I want for friends if I have them already? Why do I want for kids if I have kids in my life? When I got rid of the want, it left room for real friends to be in my life. You can reach right past motherfuckers and they’re standing right in front of you.” Barnett’s father led a life filled with drugs and violence and was shot and killed by the police when Barnett was 26. His mother fell into the same destructive pattern during his adolescence. She’s still alive but Barnett doesn’t talk to her on a regular basis. “My father was a gangster and a pimp and she was with him,” Bar-
nett said. “People like to smoke dope in those times. There’s a lot of dope using and I ain’t talking marijuana. Back in the day people were functional addicts. They were smoking meth and going to work, so I think it’s easy for people to get lost in the sauce.” German psychologist Uta Karacaoglan has a PhD in neuroscience and has published works on the taboos of tattoo culture in The International Journal of Psychoanalysis titled “Tattoo and taboo: On the meaning of tattoos in the analytic process.” Karacaoglan believes there can be multiple reasons for a person to cover their bodies with tattoos but in the case of the face, there is more to it than meets the eye. “The location of the tattoo in the face obviously lets one think about the wish to wear a mask, to hide from the look of the other, may be due to unconscious feelings of shame,” Karacaoglan explained in detail. “But on the other hand there must be a wish to identify with the face of someone else, to be someone else, maybe an important person like a
parental figure of the individual, or even one parent explicitly. As a result of a childhood confined from real connections, Barnett’s idea of the world came from reading the Bible and other philosophical literature. Those things made him feel whole when the relationships he sought out did not come to fruition. “Being remembered as a man when I wasn’t as a child, was real big to me,” Barnett recalled. “So anything I could do to make a friend, be remembered whether it was singing, dancing, teaching martial arts, knocking mother fuckers out. When I meet people I’m like, “Yo, I’ll die for you.” I’m serious. I’ll do anything. I just want you to love me. But love was broken when I came into the world. I just been dedicating my life to fixing that.” Barnett now lives in Rio Dell, California, nestled among Humboldt’s giant redwoods. His neighbors have taken well to him and treat him kindly. The neighborhood kids call him “Dragon” because of his Bruce Lee-like bounce. He teaches them the discipline of practicing martial arts in his home gym. Here, Barnett seems truly at peace. He trains daily and has been tattooing the locals. He says that he loves what Humboldt offers his soul and plans to stay forever. “I lived in that house and that house and that house down there,” Barnett said of the nearby homes. “The families have taken care of me. All these kids you see, their parents have been taking care of me and I’m grateful for that.”
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Creciendo racíes de el Raised by calloused hands and the idea he would never work outside of the strawberry fields, Carlos Alvarado Sánchez refused to give up. PHOTO AND STORY BY CASSAUNDRA CAUDILLO
I
n spite of the threat of deportation, loss of family and fear of failure, Carlos Alvarado Sánchez put himself through college. As he studies for his masters in math education and is starting two businesses he reflects on his academic journey. In the early 2000s before gaining legal documentation, Sanchez and his family experienced a documentation scare when he was pulled over in Oregon. “ICE took me and started deportation proceedings,” Sánchez said. “I faced charges with the federal judge in Tacoma, Washington and a plea was entered. I would obtain permanent resident status only if my dad would obtain citizenship.” After this Sánchez developed an idea of what his future looked like, it did not include college. Eventually, he realized 20 |OSPREY
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Don’t let the classification of your legal status deprive you from all of the opportunities that are available. The sky is the limit.” -Carlos Sánchez Math Education
college wasn’t as hard as he believed it to be. After graduating high school he worked in the fields for five years before deciding to apply to College of the Siskiyous. Out of fear, he didn’t tell any of his family he was attending college until his second semester. “I was afraid of failure,” Sánchez said. “A lot of teachers had given up on me because they thought, ‘Oh, he’s just going to work in the fields.’"They weren’t very expressive, but I knew they were happy for me,
it was in their greatest desires for us to do better.” Sánchez did not finish at College of the Siskiyous but instead received his associates degree at College of the Redwoods. He went on to receive his bachelor’s degree of science at Humboldt State University where he paid his way through college by mowing lawns and landscape work. In 2014 he a his mother died from Non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma so he took the semester off. Upon his return he began looking for ways to cope with the death of his mother. As he completes his final year in school, he focuses on himself and watching the organizations he's apart of grow. "Don’t let the classification of your legal status deprive you from all of the opportunities that are available," he said. "The sky is the limit.”
futuro
CARLOS ALVARADO SÁNCHEZ
A look into the lives of a digital generation of people who try to learn strictly through watching videos PHOTOS AND STORY BY BAILEY TENNERY
Twenty One-year-old Jesse McGee does a flip at the University Center quad March 10 at Humboldt State University.
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esse McGee is doing back flips on the roof of Arcata High School at the end of a November school day. He’s on top of the main office building where the roof is flat and one story above the concrete ground. “I looked down and thought, oh, this doesn’t look that high,” he said. McGee, who graduated from the high school four years ago, was on the roof about 20 minutes working up the courage to jump off. He watched 24 |OSPREY
hundreds of hours of YouTube videos of people hopping off buildings and other obstacles like ninja warriors in a sport known as parkour. Now it was his turn. So he jumped. “I just watched this parkour video and I’m super hyped,” McGee said. “It was dumb to be like yeah, this is possible.” McGee fractured his left ankle, one of the many injuries he’s endured from practicing parkour. “It looked like I had an egg shoved
in my ankle, and that was the worst swelling,” McGee said. “Then it went to super purple. I couldn’t rotate my foot at all.” It’s been almost two years since McGee made the jump. He is now healed up. Outside it’s raining. The weather keeps him from practicing parkour but gives him more time to watch more videos. He gazes into his cracked iPhone wrapped in a blue case, watching professional parkour athletes doing flips, vaults and a move
called cat leaps where a person jumps onto a higher surface, like a wall, and lands like a cat absorbing the impact. “I see people on Instagram posting what they are doing and naming the tricks and I was like damn. I had no idea that trick was called that!” McGee said. McGee is a part of a large digital generation that think they can learn everything they need to know from YouTube videos. A Pew Research Center survey of about 4,500 U.S.
adults found that the platform helps about half of them figure out how to do things they’ve never done before. So what’s the harm? University of Chicago Behavioral Science professor Ed O’Brien says people like McGee get the illusion that they can perform an act simply by watching without having hands-on experience. “If people view themselves as having 10/10 ability, then jump in and give a 2/10 performance,” O’Brien said. “This is a big psychological gap
between who they thought they were and who they learn they are.” Three days a week, 21-year-old McGee works at Brio Breadworks in Arcata. Part of his job is to fill plastic containers of dough and weigh it. He wears a white apron. The floor is white from flour, and the large industrial kitchen smells like yeast. “I’m on my feet for eight hours, then I’m on my bike for one hour before work and an hour after work,” McGee said. “If I factor in parkour, it’s a lot OSPREY | 25
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THERE’S A RISK THAT YOU’LL SIMPLY GIVE UP RATHER THAN KEEP PRACTICING, SAYING TO YOURSELF
‘I GUESS I JUST
D O N ’ T H AV E I T.’ EVEN THOUGH THE ONLY REASON FOR THE GAP IS BECAUSE YOU MERELY WATCHED OTHERS BEFOREHAND.”
Ed O’Brien
University of Chicago Behavioral Science Professor
of leg work I’m doing.” McGee says he hates to make excuses but that’s how it goes. O’Brien points out the possible problem. “There’s a risk that you’ll simply give up rather than keep practicing, saying to yourself ‘I guess I just don’t have it,’” O’Brien said. “Even though the only reason for the gap is because you merely watched others beforehand.” Humboldt State University freshman Jayson Ventura is another YouTube junky. He considers himself a casual gamer, but these days he plays less and spends more time on his phone or school computers watching other people play. “I spent a night in Gist Hall where I watched Super Mario Party from like 11 p.m. to 6 in the morning,” Ventura said. “It was stupid long and I was dumb for doing that.” The 18-year-old film major says he binge watches the game where up to four players tackle mini-games like Balloon Burst in a race to pump the Bowser balloon first. “There is probably a shot of dopamine every time I watch that,” Ventura said. Ventura doesn’t play as much as he’d like to because he doesn’t own the console needed for the game. Ventura has to borrow a console from a friend or wait to visit his family in Elk Grove to use his sister’s console. The last time he played was Christmas. “I watch it and see how shitty people are and get mad at them because they didn’t play optimally,” Ventura said. “In the end it’s a luck-based game.” Watching other people play pulls Ventura away from other priorities. “The vlog that I edited took two months,” he said. “It should have tak28|OSPREY
Jayson Ventura watches Swedish YouTuber PewDiePie play a video game called Detroit Become Human in Gist Hall March 14 at Humboldt State University.
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I want a body like that, which is sad because then I put myself down. I shouldn’t do that because it lowers my self-esteem.” -Edelin Hernandez Environmental Science Sophomore
Environmental science sophomore Edelin Hernandez watches workout videos on Instagram in the library cafe on April 11 at Humboldt State University
Internet Personality James Charles
en one month, because I have been watching Mario Kart Party videos.” Ventura watches other gamers on YouTube to learn how to manipulate mechanics of the game. It’s similar to cheat codes. “Basically you’re abusing how the physics of Mario Kart works and using it to your advantage,” he said. Ventura says he is out of practice 32 |OSPREY
and some tricks will take him a week to relearn. “By watching, I am losing my skill because I am not practicing,” Ventura said. “Just watching them doesn’t mean I am gaining the skill.” Researchers say people who play video games a lot may be doing so for the social experience. Max Sj and Juho Hamari from Tampere University in
Finland investigated and published a study in 2017 on why people watch other people play video games. “The results show that feeling a sense of community in the watching experience not only increases how much people watch the streams, but perhaps more importantly was also the strongest determinant of following streamers and subscribing,” they wrote. Ventura isn’t just obsessed with Mario Kart. He is also a fanatic about the melodrama Detroit Become Human, a narrative game set in the year 2038 where androids developed emotions. “I would love to play that game, but I like watching because I like reaction of the person I am watching,” Ventura said. In HSU’s Gist Hall, Ventura sits in a darkened computer lab with his shoes off as he watches 29-year-old Swedish YouTuber PewDiePie play Detroit Become Human. PewDiePie jokes as the android he is playing analyzes a dead man’s fingerprints, whose palm is stained red with blood. “Oh man, he must be jerking off a lot,” PewDiePie says as Ventura watches him play. “Yep there’s definitely better jokes coming, keep watching please.” Ventura chuckles. Then he watches his favorite part where an android housekeeper saves the young human fr om her father’s abuse. “It is very moving, I almost cried,” Ventura said. “I wanted to but nothing came out. In the back of my mind, the film major part of me was telling me that none of this is real.” HSU sophomore Edelin Hernandez watches one of her usual workout videos on her Instagram feed. She watches at least 30 of them a week.
“I want a body like that, which is sad because then I put myself down,” Hernandez said. “I shouldn’t do that because it lowers my self-esteem.” Hernandez used to weigh 200 pounds but is now 184. “I feel intimidated by the workouts,” she said. “They seem really hard, so fuck, I don’t think I can do it. So I don’t.” Instead, she watches workout videos after more workout videos. She lost weight, not by working out, she says, but by switching to a vegan diet. “Freshman year I used to go to the gym with my roommate for a while but then we just gave up,” Hernandez said. “There’s always so many people at the gym. I feel like people would look at me when I’m doing something or make fun of me. I am not thin either.” Hernandez is working towards an environmental science degree. As assignments pile up the gym becomes further out of reach. “I make up a lot of excuses,” she said. “There’s time when I have too much homework to do. Usually the gym closes early and I can’t go. I could go on nightly runs but I’m too lazy because I have to wake up early in the morning.” When 22-year-old Emily Ivey, a child development senior gets home from school, she decompresses into a world of beauty. “I spend an hour watching and I’m like, oh no, I spent another hour watching makeup videos again,” Ivey said. Ivey seldom wears makeup because she noticed no one wears much around Humboldt. “I come to school for a couple hours and then go back home,” Ivey said.
“It’s really hard to justify going full face for an hour of class and coming home to take it off.” Ivey watches a lot of videos by Jeffree Star, an American Internet celebrity, who has his own makeup brand and 13 million YouTube subscribers. “When they put the makeup on, I feel like I’m in the presence of legends,” Ivey said. “The way they do make up seems so easy. It’s obviously not easy when you do it yourself for the first time.” Ivey also watches 19-year-old internet personality James Charles who has 15 million YouTube subscribers. “I will only watch them applying the makeup and nothing else,” Ivey said. “Even if they’re explaining something, I’ll just skip through. I just watch them put the makeup on and watch them say if they like the product or not.” Ivey wears makeup for special occasions and says the last time she wore some was on New Year’s Eve. “That night I just did a regular smoky eye,” Ivey said. “I don’t think I even put eyeliner on. I think it was just eyeshadow and foundation. I’m going to get drunk anyways. I’m sure I won’t remember what I look like later.” Last year Ivey avoided wearing makeup, because she had hormonal acne called polycystic ovary syndrome. “You have typical pimples that are white, then you have the big pimples like bumps that you can’t do anything about, and I basically had that all over my face,” she said. Ivey watches experienced makeup artists on YouTube apply eyeshadow, and intricate eyeliners to a plain face. She has makeup of her own but it sits unused. “I keep my makeup palette in my
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When they put the make up on, I feel like I’m in the presence of legends. The way they do make up seems so easy. It’s obviously not easy when you do it yourself for the first time. -Emily Ivey Child Development Senior
desk with my notebooks. It sounds so bad. It just sits on top of my notebooks,” Ivey said. Why does society choose to experience actions by watching rather than performing the act themselves? O’Brien says we look to others to learn new things from the moment we’re born. “Our research suggests that people do want to perform acts themselves, but prematurely. They think that watching has given them sufficient training,” O’Brien said. Ivey says she doesn’t have the time or the effort it takes to put makeup on. “It’s more convenient to watch, because you’re not doing it yourself,” Ivey said. “I live vicariously through them.”
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Fine tuned
Tucked away in his Eureka shop, a guitar maker continues his 40-year legacy of hand-made specialty guitars despite painful cancer. PHOTOS AND STORY BY LUIS LOPEZ
Rizzzz, rizzzzzz rizzzzzzzz Steve Helgeson pushes a piece of Honduras Mahogany wood through his drill table, cutting a curved piece for the body of a guitar. 36 |OSPREY
Helgeson picks up the headstock -- the top piece that holds the pegs and strings. He is making the guitar for a long-time customer and friend. “This process takes about five minutes.” Helgeson said. “But I’m careful, I don’t want to mess this piece up and do this over again.” Making the headstock may take a few minutes to shape but finishing an entire guitar can take months. Helgeson, 68, has been hand making guitars for more than 40 years, since making his first guitar in woodshop class in 1971 at College of the Redwoods. At first, he studied Zoology but never received his degree. He soon found a passion for luthiering. “It wasn’t a very good guitar, but when I started making more, I realized I can make a career out of this,” he said. Helgeson opened his own business, Moonstone Guitars, named after Moonstone Heights, a cliff overlooking Moonstone Beach near Trinidad. “I lived in a trailer living the hippie lifestyle,” Helgeson said. “The workshop was pretty small.” After his business grew, he moved the shop to Arcata in the 1980s and then to Eureka after an arson fire damaged the Arcata storefront. Helgeson’s business grew and so did his staff. Kenneth Lawrence worked for Helgeson from 1981 to 1985. “It was like heaven for a starting guitar maker like myself,” Lawrence said. “I had free reign to use the machines there and hone my skills.” Today, Lawrence has his own business called Ken Lawrence Instruments where he specializes in making bass guitars.
Helgeson makes guitars from various types of wood such as Honduras Mahogany and Brazilian Rosewood. His standard acoustic guitar goes for about $4,000 or more, depending on the material. Chad Johnson, a local musician and videographer from Los Angeles, bought two basses from Moonstone Guitars. He paid $6,500 for a Vulcan Hollow electric guitar and $8,000 for a Custom Neptune. Johnson has known Helgeson for eight years. “Steve is a master crafter,” Johnson said. “They’re a one of a kind work of art. He’s unique.” Helgeson has created guitars for famous musicians like Gregg Allman of the Allman Brothers band. Errol Previde, owner of Wildwood Music in Arcata, doesn’t own any Moonstone Guitars but has been invited to Helgeson’s workshop to play some of his guitars. “I was blown away by the quality of the guitar,” Previde said. “They’re very high end and beautiful. Steve is one of the best luthiers around.” Helgeson spends five hours inside his workshop every week. After work, he rests his legs. He feels pain in his knees when he tries to stand and move around his workshop. Helgeson uses an electric wheelchair and spends most of his time at home resting his legs due to his deteriorating knees. He’s had to use an electric wheelchair to move around his workshop since last year. “It feels like the bones in my knees are rubbing against each other,” Helgeson said. “Sitting down I can still build guitars.” Helgeson is eager to have surgery on his knees to relieve his pain. But he has more pressing medical troubles, and
One of Helgeson’s Guitars sits inside a sound room on April 16. Anytime Helgeson has customers inside his shop, he let’s them play his guitar to test quality.
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Steve Helgeson drills the bridge of the guitar to insert the strings on March 13 at Moonstone Guitars. He lines up the drill using a tool he made out of plexiglass and some cardboard from a cereal box.
“
I was blown away by the quality of the guitar They’re very high end and beautiful. Steve is one of the best luthiers around.” -Errol Previde Wildwood Music Owner
was diagnosed with bladder cancer last year. He’s already had three surgeries at St. Joseph’s Redwood Memorial Hospital. “They stick a tube inside me and scrape off any cancer that’s left inside of me,” Helgeson said. “The doctors say it’s the least intrusive surgery they perform, but I hate having to go. I hate it.” He constantly goes to the bathroom, which interrupts his work making guitars. Inside Helgeson’s home, he keeps a double neck guitar that he built for himself. Occasionally he plays his guitars to check if they’re in tune, playing a country style song with punchy low bass notes that echos in his living room. “My fingers aren’t as good as they used to be,” Helgeson said.
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AARRCCPA PARRKK ‘til DARK Arcata’s skateboarding community is small and tight knit. At the affectionately nicknamed “ArcPark,” it’s all love. In spite of its rugged layout, full of lumps and bumps, ArcPark brings a mix of locals and students together to skate till the sun goes down.
A P H OTO SERIES BY BY N I C K KEMPER
SANDER LAUNCHES A “BONELESS GRAB” OVER THE HIP ON MARCH 28 AT THE ARCATA SKATEPARK.
JONATHAN SANDER CAME TO HUMBOLDT STATE IN FALL 2016 TO PURSUE ENVIRONMENTAL RESOURCE ENGINEERING. SANDER HAS BEEN SKATING ARCPARK FOR THREE YEARS. THE ARCATA SKATEPARK WAS THE FIRST PLACE HE WENT TO WHEN HE FIRST VISITED HUMBOLDT. “PEOPLE ARE TIGHT KNIT, EVERYBODY SEEMS TO BE REALLY GOOD FRIENDS,” SANDER SAID. “SINCE ARCATA IS A SMALL TOWN AND ARCPARK IS A SMALL SKATEPARK, EVERYBODY JUST SORT OF KNOWS EACH OTHER. IT’S JUST A GOOD PLACE TO BE.”
RECREATIONAL ADMINISTRATION MAJOR JORDAN JOHNSON PERFORMS A “FRONTSIDE KICKFLIP TO TAILSLIDE” ON A LEDGE ON MARCH 29 AT THE ARCATA SKATEPARK.
ROBBIE FOGARTY DOES A “VARIAL HEELFLIP” ON APRIL 10 AT THE ARCATA SKATEPARK.
JUSTIN BARRETT DOES A “FRONTSIDE LIPSLIDE” ON APRIL 10 AT THE ARCATA SKATEPARK.
HALEY ISAACSON, 22, IS ORIGINALLY FROM MODESTO, CALIFORNIA. SHE SKATED ARC PARK FOR TWO MONTHS AND SAID SHE IMMEDIATELY MADE FRIENDS WITH THE LOCALS AT THE PARK.