CURTIS HSIANG
12.04.63-01.08.00
&
CHRIS SENN
After a while death is quite boring. How someone died, who was there, what it was like,
and all that flap has become redundantly passé. The question that never gets asked is how
they lived. Cramming the brief history of time into one skater's life is far from easy. But
try I must. Curtis Hsiang was my brother. Not by blood, but by choice-drawn to a flame
that will never fade. The idea that if there's a seat in the car, "I'm there," there's a pool in
Mountain View, "I'm there," and I'm going to Texas to skate the pipe, "I'm there"-how
can you replace someone like that? We did some miles. I'm no writer. I'm a skater, and
he'd like it like that. Curt, thanks for pushin' me, 'cause I know there's work to do.
Only love is eternal.
Jake Phelps
Emerica. SENN:BLACK.