Category Archives: analog asia

100 Posts & Thank You

Inevitably, we would be wandering typically rainy downtown Portland, and run into someone we knew. Usually, it was someone impossible, someone we hadn’t seen in years, or was a little famou-ish. My father coined the phenomenon as “big town, small city”, meaning we had all the marks of a city but with the feel of a small town, where you might stop and talk in the middle of the road outside the feed store.

For Eddie and I, this is our 100th collective post on Bear and Shark. We started in May 2011 with no solid plans, only the need to share projects, drawings,ideas and stories over a vast distance. Along the way our projects grew as we; furnished houses with recycled things, we reclaimed newspaper boxes, ate weird fruit and tried to bring analogue back.

By far the best part of the whole experience has been the ability to share our “art and travel” on global scale. Each time I see the certain portions of the map light up, I think of all the amazing people we know and how lucky we are to share our project with them. The internet is amazing.In Norway- I see Ina and Nat,  Canada-Brenda and Greg/my countless relatives, Belgium-Alex, Australia- the Manly crew and cousin, Spain- family, UK & South America- old friends, Singapore-Brendon and everyone in the US. As for Bulgaria…well, we’re still trying to figure that one out.

Knowing that you are reading became the reason to write. The reason to get up at 6 or 7am (way too often). The end result is a project that is so much bigger than we could have imagined.

Over the last year and a half the world becomes so much smaller, it no longer seems like a grey metropolitan of strangers staring at the ground, but a patchwork of friends.So I guess its all a round about way of saying “Thank you”.

Below is a map of who has checked out Bear&Shark in the last 90 days.

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Upcoming projects; a new layout to the site, no more silly ads, Eddies taking out christmas consumerism and I’m opening up a New Zealand home distillery.

Feel free to email us with feedback, Shark-seabarnhart@gmail.com, Bear- barnheart@gmail.com

Gallery

120mm Film

This gallery contains 10 photos.

Its sad, but it makes me feel almost ashamed, the fact that I have 4 rolls of undeveloped film sitting in my bag. In New Zealand, Ive been quoted $30 a roll to “send them away”, because they are medium format dino fossils and … Continue reading

Lessons Before the Quake

On April 10th, a massive 8.6 earthquake hit off the coast of Indonesia. We where two big, flat blocks off the beach in Ao Nang Thailand, staring down the barrel of  a possible Tsunami. This is what happened the day before, April 9th, on the tiny island Koh Jum:

A 120mm double exposure of Ganesha and a cave opening. The statue was located on our escape route.

Linzays toe got in a head on collision with a table leg. Twisted and bent in an unrecognizable way. No fatalities, but it left her a little slower than usual.

By Thai time it was early in the morning – eight am.We recount the story to the boat driver when he sees her foot. He is Hei, or at least thats what I remember his name being. Hei is an everything guy, the forever smiling boatman/waiter/carpenter/gardener of our little thatched hut Pearl Resort.

“Tsunami.” Hei rolled up his tattered pant leg, buried underneath is a simple but brutally jagged scar. The pink line, contrasts sharply with his ocean browned skin. Linzay and I dont really know what to say. Linzay’s toe injury seemed to shrink instantly.

Our jaws agape and our eyes wide as he continued rolling his leg up, it seems his able was only the start to a maze of injury. He continues with his characteristic grin, one that is so big that it seems his eyes have to squint to make room for it. ” I survived but I lose my boat,” subtly, his smile faded when he said boat, “It was a good boat. A big boat.”

The scar winds to his knee, Hei stops to roll his waist band down, exposing the scars destination on his hip. By this time, my disbelief had tuned to a burning curiosity, ” Where whereyou, whathappened,what didyoudo?” the questions seemed to shake out of me in the rhythm of our longtail boat skipping across the water.

Catching a boat with a boat, in the middle of the ocean.

“I was on my boat, when I see there,” he points off toward Koh Pei Pei Lay island, “Something wrong, I see a big wave. Very big-10 meter. Very fast.” He starts laughing at the absurdity of the memory.

“What did you do?!” I cried out in suspense. A pretty dumb question when considering the impossibility of the situation. He laughed out loud, shaking his head.

“I did this,” He said diving to the bottom floorboards of our stationary boat, grabbing the wooden ribs.

“Ohhhhhhh, Shiiiitttt!”

We all laugh, surrounded by the tranquil pristine water. Colourful fish dart below.

“I never got my boat replaced. The politicians take all the money.” He said shaking his head again. “The rest went to big resorts”

The day the Boxing day Tsunami hit, I was in Canada, huddled with my family around a roaring fire in a log cabin, hiding from the frozen outside. Hei was struggling for his life. Meeting him made the story real, I couldn’t have imagined what it would have been like to survive his circumstance, but after the next day I could imagine it all the more clearly. It was with timidness and humility he told his story, it was with terror that I was able to relate to it. Read about that day by clicking here.

Perspective is a funny thing. Timing is even funnier.

Stoner Sea Gypses

It was the stoner sea gypseas that brought us to Koh Jum. Our old school network of friendly locals summoned them to the pier, a slight haze of smoke drifting behind the boat.We knew that the price was too much, but we didnt really care. Bob Marly shirts and dark shades, they sipped reefer discreetly from the back of the boat, as they navigated us between islands.I offered them a cold beer but they refused on moral grounds saying that hey only smoke, I found it an interesting contrast to the western value system.

Koh Jum was picked in our desperation for remoteness, a random look at a map and some good words from the motel owner. No one really goes there and that was enough. He should have qualified what he said, no one without money goes there. It is home to preposterous private bungalows for the rich.

The captain of the boat had a chuckle when I told him our budget, landing us on the beach in front of ” The pearl”. “This place is for you,” he said, to our right movie star girls bath in expensive looking suits. We went left.

The pearl was run by Ricks family, who are nothing short of delightful. It was only random that we landed at his place, a long string of conversations with people trying to suggest a good time, as opposed to make a profit. Our room cost us 5$ AUS a night and the food not much more. A shack of wood, nothing to do and piles of food, this is how I spent my 26th birthday.

Trust the sea gypsies.