理沙、

今日の僕はどっちかと言えば、眠い方だ。どうでもいいか。

さあ、早速キャラクターの作り方、つまりキャラクターの紹介、に入ろう。

知らない人と初めて会った時って、面白いよね？なんでだろう。その人の事知らないから面白いのだ。例えば：いつもと同じように、いつもと同じクラスメートと授業に出る時。それか、転校生が初めて学校に来て、初めて授業に出る時。どっちがわくわくすると思う？そう、知らない人が入ってくると、状況が面白くなる。その人の事を知らないから、自分で色々と想像してしまう。あの人は彼女がいるのかな？あの人はスポーツが上手いのかな？あの人は頭がいいのかな？わー！考えるだけで胸がどきどきするわ！

っていう訳で、案外キャラクターを直接に説明しない方がいい。こうすると、読者が想像力を使え、自分の世界に入れる。

例えば：僕はスターバックスでコーヒーを飲んでいると、彼女が斜め前の開いている席に座ってきた。彼女は足が長くて、顔が美しかった。彼女はすごく綺麗だった。それに、頭が良さそうだった。

あああああーーーー超つまらない。彼女は綺麗だったなんて、どこが？！顔が美しいって、どう美しいの？人はそれぞれのタイプがあるんだろう。足の長い女性が嫌いだという足の短い男の読者もいるだろう。頭がよさそうって、人を見れば分かることじゃないし。それに美しいって言っても、曖昧すぎて結局イメージにならないのだ。っていうかめっちゃくちゃつまらない。こうやって直接に読者にキャラクターを紹介してしまうと、読者は全く想像力を使えない。そこで、キャラクラーが人形になってしまう。最後に読者が小説を焼く。もう一回やり直そう。

僕はスターバックスでをコーヒーを飲んでいると、彼女が斜め前の開いている席に座ってきた。反対側に向かった彼女の細い後ろ姿を眺めると、僕は理沙のことを思い出した。この子は顔が理沙に似ているのかな。そう思い、僕は立ち上がって彼女の前のゴミ箱にストローを捨てに行った。僕が席に戻っているところで彼女は両手で持った厚い本からほんの少し顔を上げた。僕たちの目が合うと、僕は一瞬スターバックスの中心で倒れそうになった。

彼女は綺麗だ、と一回も言ってない。しかし語り物により、彼女は綺麗だということが明らかに示されている。こう説明すると、小説家として僕たちは完全に読者に任せている。これはとてもいいことだ。読者が状況によって彼女を自由に作れるのだ。彼女はどんな風に綺麗なのか、読者が決めればいいのだ。後、見た目よりも、キャラクターの行動を説明した方がいい。現実でも、見た目よりも行動が大切だからだ。上の例に彼女が一人でコーヒーを飲みながら本を読んでいる、ということが彼女の賢いところを表している。そこで直接「賢い」を言わなくてもいい。ナイス。

簡単にいえば、小説家が勝手にキャラクターを作ってしまうと、そのキャラクターが小説家のものになる。一方、読者がキャラクターを作ると、そのキャラクターが読者のものになる。

と説明すると、いや、そんな説明は足りない。見た目まだ全然分からないじゃん。と、文句を言う人もいるだろう。確かに読者は見た目がまだまだあまりイメージが出来ないのだろう。でもそれはそれでいい。詳細のことは後で書けばいい。キャラクターを紹介する時に、読者に任せるように人物を説明すべきだ。

キャラクタを紹介する時の例：

彼は壊れている眼鏡を掛けていた。　×
珍しいな、ハリー・ポッターがスターバックスに来るなんて。　○

彼女は綺麗な髪の毛をしていた。　×
一日何回くらい髪の毛を洗うのだろうか。　俺は彼女を見て、そう思った。○

彼はものすごく綺麗な目をしていた。　×
彼と話している間、わざと目を合わせなかった。彼に惚れたくなかったからだ。　○

もし僕は理沙をキャラクターにするのなら：

彼女は頭がよかった。　×
彼女はクラスの誰よりもペン回しが上手かった。　○

上の例をもう一回分析しよう。×の文は全部直接すぎてつまらない。想像する余裕がほとんどなく、読者が泣いている。○の例はキャラクターを直接に説明せず、キャラクターの雰囲気を表し、読者が次のページを読み始める。

キャラクターを作るのはとても難しいことだ。この説明じゃ足りないからまたキャラクターについて説明するね。今日はここまでだ。もう１０時になっちゃってさ。

おすすめの練習：クラスの全員をキャラクターとして紹介してみて。笑

んじゃ、また火曜日。

ケビン先生は仕事が終わって帰ったら、いつも何をしてるんですか？と、生徒の一人に書かれた僕は

小説を書く。

と、答えた。すると、その子が「ほんとに？」とびっくりした。
「ほんとだよ」と僕。
「私もいつか書いてみたいな」
「やってみたら？」
「あたし何かできないよ、そんな」
「やってみないと分かんないじゃん」

二日後、その子が英語のノートにこう書いた。
「私自身ないけど小説を書いてみます！！アドバイスあれば是非教えてください！」

僕はそれを読むと、本当に感心した。そこで、彼女に書くことについて一生懸命教えてあげようと決めた。これは僕が昨日初めて彼女にあげた、小説のアドバイスだ（本名が違う）。これから書くアドバイスも、全てこのサイトにアップしようと思っている。

理沙、

これから週一、二回くらい小説の書き方について理沙に説明していきたいと思う。なるべき面白く書いていきたいと思うけど、この文書をほとんど夜遅く書いているから間違いとか、あれ？何これ？さっぱり訳分からんけど。というところがあれば、出来るだけ無視してください。眠いから。

まず一番大事なことを言っておくね。小説を読め（もう十分に読んでいるようだけど）！５年間くらいも毎日一生懸命に書いているけど、僕は（まだ）夏目漱石とか芥川とかに比べ物にならないんだ。それに熱心に日本語で書いているのはまだ半年しか経っていない。したがって、僕は小説の書き方についていくら詳しく知っていても、間違いなく僕は理沙に日本語を教えてあげられない。英語なら少しは出来るけど、理沙が日本語で小説を書きたいだろうと思うので、日本の名作もたくさん読まないとこれはほとんど意味がない。意味がなければ、こっちは寝るべきだ。眠いから。

さあ、始めよう。

僕は何を書いても、頑張って真面目に書くんだ。だからこの文ですら何回も頭の中で繰り返し、何回も編集した。それでも下手か。日本語が母語じゃないからか。そんなこと言うなよ、テンション下がるわ。まぁ、英語でも同じように書くよ。もう書いた文、今も書いている文、まだ書いていない文、僕は全て常に考えている。これがライターと一般人の違いだ。

これは非常に大切なのでもう一回言わせてもらう。ライターと一般人の違いはライターは編集するんだ。一般人は文を書き終わったら、筆を置く。だから一般人はいくら書いても、成長しない。ライターは自分の文を分析するから成長する。

だから二つの文を書く時間があれば、一つだけ書いてそれを改訂するんだ。三つの文を書く時間もあれば、一つだけ書いて、それを二回も改訂するんだ。分かったかな？だから５つの文を書く時間もあればどうすればいい？そう、寝ればいい。眠いから。

今、僕は小説を二冊書いている。（小説を書いていると言っても出版していないからまだ趣味か。笑）。それぞれの話を書く度に、今まで書いた文を必ず全て読む。つまり話は３７ページがあるとすれば、３８ページを書き始める前に、１ページから３７ページまでの文を全部読む。それから３９ページを書く時、１ページから３８ページまでもう一度読む。そう、とても疲れる手順だ。既に眠いし。

とにかく、こうするとまだ気づいていないリズムの問題とかを一応書き直したりして、それが終わるまで絶対にストーリを進めない。この順番で行けば１００ページの小説を完成した時、自分の作品を１００回以上読んでいて、１００回以上編集していただろう。

まず編集。まず編集。まず編集。例外がたくさんあると思うが、ストーリの流れを決めてから小説を完成するまでは、話の内容がそんなに変わらないだろう。だからいつも編集に集中するべきだ。ちゃんと編集すれば、あー、これでいいかなっていう段落が、これやっべー！超良い！となるから。

ああ、本当に眠くなってきた。笑。少し早く終わるね。今日のポイントと言えば、

今日の一番大切なことと言えば
本日の最も大事なところと言うと
僕は理沙に覚えて欲しいのは

編集編集編集。編集、つまり書き直すこと、しないと成長出来ない。才能を磨くんだよ。

小説家というのは、オリジナルストーリの文を何回も磨く人のことだ。

おすすめの練習：今読んでいる小説の中から好きな文を５つ選ぶ。そして、その文をさらに上手く書いてみて。真面目にやれば約三十分くらいはかかるだろう。時間がなけれあば、３つくらいはやってみて。

このプリントを新しいファイルにしてね。それから理沙が書いたこともそれに入れてね。アドバイスを一応全部パソコンに保存するつもりだからなくしたら言ってね。

んじゃ、また木曜日。

2009 is coming to a close, and so is your face!

In 2009 I put a hiatus on tricking, graduated from college, got a job, moved to Japan, bought a motorcycle, and wrote two novels in Japanese.

Hold up. Stopped tricking? Bought a motorcycle?! Wrote two novels…in JAPANESE?! This year has been a year of firsts and a year of growth. If God, or some other celestial being, were to chop 2009 from my timeline, I’d probably be driving around Bellevue in my old, crusty corolla, waiting for Avatar to start. But instead, he was all like, ah, hell no, you’re going to Japan to do all sorts of craziness! And now, here I am, inside my new apartment. Righteous.

The older I become, the more difficult it is for me to swallow the reality in which I live. The dreams and aspirations which filled my mind as a teen have, quite literally, blossomed precisely into their original projections.

Job in Japan Check.
Japanese fluency Check.
Sweet motorcycle Check.
Precise audio set up Check.

This is a concise collection of the ‘must-haves’ of my pre-tricking existence. Always wanted to live in Japan, always wanted a black Kawasaki Ninja, and always wanted a pair of ear massaging headphones. I often use the following statement, but honestly, if the 13 year old me saw himself now, he’d probably laugh in disbelief. If AIM screen name GLDFNGER came across dogentricks.com, he’d warm his trousers with a supple stool. If the Smash Bros champion of my youth saw Kawasaki Monochrome, he’d drop it like it was hot.

All of this made me realize: well shoot, I can really do whatever the hell I want to. Literally. Everything I’ve ever wanted has simply flown into my hands. When I describe this phenomenon to others, they often say, “well, it’s because you work hard blah blah blah.” But in all reality, there’s no hard work to be done. Studying Japanese, getting into JET, moving into my new home–these events all unfolded so smoothly, it was as if someone else had planned it out for me. Hard work? HARDLY!!! LOLOL.

Don’t you see? I am a dream machine! Laughably ludicrous ideas manifest themselves in my mind. They crawl down my neural passageways and embed themselves in the motors of movement. My muscles pump and produce the results of the scenes in the dreams of the dream machine. I am the dream machine! Watch me create the perfect reality!

Based on my life up until this point, I can confidently say I will have and achieve anything I want. Thus, upon exhausting my previous dream databank, these are the next set of fantasies I pledge to fabricate.

Breakdance.
Inspire my students to dream.
Become a published, award-winning author in Japanese.
and last, but certainly not least—Return to the world of tricking.

These are not my new years resolutions–these are my new years realities.

Train hard.

Hello friends, Dogentricks.com here.

This is the last blog entry I will ever write in the United States of America.

Today, on my way back from the embassy, I swung by my apartment and watched some TV with friends. We sat together on our green leather couch and watched 3 second season episodes of ‘Coupling,’ the same way we did in high school five years ago. We laughed at the same jokes—nearly doubling over at captain subtext. But today, when I stood up from the couch, instead of retreating to my room and throwing a ‘g’night guys’ over my right shoulder, I slowly tied my shoes and walked towards the door. I turned to face my friends, and told them goodbye. “I’m moving to Japan tomorrow; thanks for the times we’ve had.” This is what I said to my best friend Rob, a guy I went to elementary school, middle school, high school, and college with. His house was never more than a few minutes bike ride, and this year, his room never more than a few steps walk. “Thanks for the times we’ve had,” is what I said to him, because I knew if I said, “I’m going to miss you to death—you’ve been the best friend I could ever imagine, and helped me through so much,” that I would have undoubtedly started to cry.

The same events will unfold tomorrow morning when I say goodbye to my parents at Sea-Tac International Airport. I’ll look at both of them, give them both hugs, and say to them, “I’ll talk to you soon. Love you too. Bye.” I’ll say it in the same way I have for 14 years when I woke up and went to school. The only difference this time is that I am moving to Japan, alone.

My friends aren’t moving to Japan, and neither is my family. It hit me hard today on the drive home—I pulled into the parking lot of my elementary school and listened to Supercar’s Karma, trying to wrap myself around the reality of tomorrow. At 2:15 PM I will leave everything I know, all of my friends, and all of my family. Although I love Seattle and its people to death, I was born to do this, and it wouldn’t be right for me to stay. I was meant to go to Japan, to become a teacher and a writer, and to inspire others to study language the same way I did 8 years ago. This is my path and something I’ve known I must do for the past decade.

This is not my dream coming true; this is fate.

Tomorrow will be the most significant day of my life. Thank you for your support.

Train hard.

Hello friends.

This is Quad Tricks X—my last sampler in the U.S., and most likely my last real sampler for a long, long time. Thanks to everyone who has supported me these past several years.

Hello friends, Dogentricks.com here.

The following is a short passage I wrote for my English 284 (short stories) class. The goal of this assignment was to create emotion using only perceptional illustrations of environment. I’m going to cheat a bit here, and include some music (Solitude By Ryuichi Sakamoto, Tony Takitani Soundtrack) that I think suits the writing. Hope you guys enjoy it.

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The boy made his way towards the faded steel ferris wheel that he imagined to be the center of the park. The ear piercing, rhythmic squeal of its grinding gears sent chills down his spine. It spun precariously on its axis as if might pop off anytime—rolling through the park and demolishing everything in its path like a freak hillbilly car show.

He squirmed through the crowd of misfits. A pair of monochrome clowns, black eyeliner streaking down their white faces, slowly clap oversized shoes through the thick mud. A cloud of spicy body odor follows their bent figures through the sea of bodies. To his left, a string of game booths. A noisy young couple, probably out without the permission of their parents, take turns throwing rusty lead darts against a tack wall of under-inflated balloons. The next booth is lined with wooden milk cartons and dirt stained, rubber softballs. The boy’s eyes climb the makeshift, rickety infrastructure of the tent. A group of lifeless, faded stuffed animals are lynched from the ceiling. The moist stink of their moldy fur betray any notion of their existence as ‘prizes.’ Their empty, unblinking eyes follow the boy’s figure, silently pushing him through the mob. 

He trips. His hands dive into the thick, warm mud, fixing themselves like a construction worker fallen into a mass of drying cement. The boy’s breaths become quick and shallow. He is covered in the shadows of strangers and pummeled by a barrage of faceless laughter. He rounds his sweat covered back, drives his heels into the ground, and pulls. Standing, the boy quickly wipes the brown mess against the coarse, dry denim of his jeans. A quick gust dashes through the carnival, snatching whiffs from every vendor. The boy is wrapped in the reek of watered down ketchup, over used honey buckets, and damp trash.

He continues to trek towards the spinning, metal giant. A patchy old horse to his right releases a reluctant cry. The boy, lightheaded and out of breath, locks eyes with the poor creature—a once muscle bound stallion, now confined to a twenty five square meter box of harassment. For a moment, their countenances reflect each other. The boy drops his eyes back to the ticket littered ground, drives his index fingers into his ears, and continues walking.

Hello friends. My name is Dogentricks.com, and this is the beginning of chapter two.

I am the typical underdeveloped protagonist, just about to discover his powers. I’m the innocent, young man with a couple traumatizing experiences. You are the jittery audience. You are watching my story, patiently waiting for the drama to unfold.

Shazam. I am bit by a radioactive spider. I am exposed to XYZ-rays. I am bathed in a coat of chemical top-secret 03312. I am super!

You watch apprehensively. Tension runs down your spine, radiating through yours shoulders, crawling down your arms, leaking into your hands. Your fingers gradually claw themselves into vice-like grips around the arm rests.

I slowly look down at my trembling palms, immediately aware of immense power now surging through my veins. I clench my pink, steaming fists, shift my eyes towards the sky, and release an earth shattering cry. A set of brilliant wings unfold from my back, and with a single, thundering beat, carry me to the cosmos.

You, now covered in a light blanket of salt and popcorn oil, take a generous gulp of Coca Cola. Escalating anxiety forces your stomach to the top of your body cavity. Your unblinking eyes stay fixed to the screen.

Above a carpet of cotton clouds, I streak across the vast sky at breakneck speeds. The calm, cold air has a sharp edge and washes over me like waves of frozen needles. I’m bathed in a sea of frigid pricks as I continue to accelerate, splitting the supple, white floor beneath me. In a final surge of energy, I pull the wings in tight, blasting through the sound barrier and vaporizing every cloud in the sky.

I’m Dogentricks.com, and I suffer from the superhero syndrome.

I’m sure you are well aware of the sickness. It first comes in bouts, when you’re least expecting it. You’re watching youtube late on a Tuesday night, or flipping through an old issue of TIME magazine. It’s the classic rags to riches story. It’s the training montage in every good sports movie. It’s the chaotic guitar solo in your favorite song. It is the intangible, indescribable, insatiable feeling of inspiration. You are captivated. “I need something like this—I need the ability to inspire.” This is the initial symptom of the superhero syndrome.

You’re slammed by another set of energy waves. One moment, you’re sitting in class, lazily tapping your pencil against the desk in 3/4 time. The bell rings and you clap your headphones back around your head. Everything vanishes. Your chair falls through the floor and your desk is yanked out from under your elbows. You’re suddenly standing in a bright, white room full of nothing but images of the person you wish you were. More often than not, you find yourself sneaking into the image room; you pop your head in between classes, between meals, and between states of consciousness.

Enter phase two. Your self-evaluated potential, previously bottlenecked only by the limits of your own imagination, is boundless. You become a product of self-transcendentalism, constantly preoccupied by thoughts of super-you. You can’t stop wondering, “What would life be like if I had a superpower?” If you had that super ability, people would look up to you! People would see you and say, you are my inspiration! You could make the world a better place with your ability, and foster a new generation of self proclaimed X-men.

Everyday, I wake up aching. I look down at the figure I’ve created and consider accumulated damage. I think to myself, “How can I, a less than talented trickster riddled with injuries, make a positive impact? How can a person with subpar ability make a noticeable difference? Is it possible to inspire others, while lacking the ability oneself?”

Why is it that people come to this site? Why do your eyes reflect these abstract lines? Why do people say I am a God among tricksters, when there are literally hundreds, if not thousands, of tricksters far better than myself? Why do people send me e-mails overflowing with thanks and emotion?

Have you been sneaking into my image room? Did you see a glimpse of the person I hope to be? Were you wandering through my dreams?

Hello friends. My name is Dogentricks.com, and this is the beginning of chapter two. I have never been a great trickster, and do little to deserve the praise you bless me with. I love tricking from the bottom of my heart, and I always will. But to become a hero, I need to develop my talent. I need to nurture the real reason this site has become what it is today.

This is the beginning of my journey to move people with words—the closest thing I have to a superpower.

Train hard.

Hello friends. My name is Dogentricks.com, and this is the end of chapter one.

I am not a child, youth, or teen. I am 21 years old and months away from college graduation. I am waiting to hear back from a serious position in the real world. I am thinking about and planning my future.

Everyday, I wake up aching. I look down at the figure I’ve created and consider accumulated damage. My right big toe is swollen and restricted from a fracture in high school. My left small toe is nearly immobile and discolored due to a simple gym mistake. My ankles are gnarled and tight. My tibia are lined with veins after two years of battling major shin splints with rigid conditioning. My right knee cap is pulled taught against my meniscus from a torn MCL and several years of patellar tendonitis. My left quadriceps are large and disproportionate from almost half a decade of unilateral moonkicks. My hamstrings lay relaxed after another recovery from more strains, sprains, and tears than I can count. My femur jostles my inflamed hip with every movement. My back aches; it wakes me in my sleep and keeps me paralyzed in fear of a future doubled over in pain. My abdominals are completely asymmetrical from four years of constant twisting to the left. My shoulder is rigid and pinches into the socket suddenly and without warning. My elbows are tight with tendonitis and my wrists are weak from landing on them with multiple times the weight of my body. My pale skin is scarred and worn from countless burns after hours in the sun, trying to land that one, last trick. I’ve been to the doctor a dozen times, gone through thirty-six sessions of physical therapy, and had six X-rays and four MRIs.

I have nothing left to break.

My name is Dogentricks.com and this is the end of chapter one. It kills me to say, but upon graduating from college this June, I will quit tricking. My eyes are literally filling with tears as I write these words – this is something I have no want to do, but know it must be done. I cannot justify a lifetime of chronic, full-body pain. Tricking is without any doubt the source of my injuries and the reason I ache every waking minute. I have to quit if I want to walk in my thirties, I have to quit if I want to swim in my late twenties, and I have to quit if I want to regain the ability to run, now. This is the inevitability I have blocked out for years.

I’ve known for a long time when I would quit tricking, but recently the reality of abandoning quite literally my heart and soul has become very tangible. The idea of a life without tricking has given me anxiety attacks and a need to release the constantly building pressure in my chest.

So today, I want to write an entry about tricking, and its place in my life. 

---

 
My name is Dogentricks.com, because of tricking.

 

I discovered tricking some time toward the end of junior high. I was searching around the internet, looking up cheat codes for Tenchu 2. By accident, I stumbled across a website known as Trick Busters. The first link I clicked brought me to a 6 second clip of a short Asian girl named Alyssa performing a ‘butterfly.’ Alyssa glided across the floor, gracefully dipped her body, then leaped into the air. There, she floated, slowly and beautifully wrapping around her center of gravity. Landing without a sound, Alyssa turned toward the camera and smiled.

Something twisted in my stomach, hard. How did she do that? In an curious, almost frantic state I began clicking every link on the website. Within an hour I watched all the videos on Trick Busters and subsequently overrode their daily bandwidth. When I went to watch the last clip and “error 401, exceeded bandwidth” came up, I nearly threw my mouse. I had to have more! What was this? Why could seemingly normal people do things like this? This isn’t real; this can’t be real. This is what people do in movies with wires. Why could Alyssa trick? How long had she been training? What is going on?!

In that state of troubled confusion, I seemed to subconsciously evaluate my existence. “Each day I count down the hours until I get home to instant message my friends about things I won’t remember one week from now. Meanwhile, there is this group of ‘trick busters’ who are living among the clouds. These guys are so cool! There is no one who wouldn’t think these guys are cool! I mean, they ARE cool! They are literally flipping around like it is a completely normal thing; they are effortlessly performing physical acts which people pay to see in a movie, and for fun!” Trick busters: We are a group of kids in the bay area. We love training tricks! We are trick busters! Thanks for visiting our site!

I had been caught red handed. I was looking up cheat codes for a technique in a video game – a technique that any of the trick busters, real humans, could perform with ease. I felt embarrassed and worthless. I felt I had nothing to prove in life. A trick buster wouldn’t waste their time laughing at me. It was the most frustrating and upsetting moment of my life.

For that, I am thankful. Tricking became part of me from that day forward.

I woke up the next day and immediately did as many pushups as I could. I had a banana for breakfast and did calf raises while brushing my teeth. I got on the bus, put on my headphones, and thought about nothing but tricking until I arrived at school.

I told everyone about it. “Have you ever heard of tricking? It’s so sick!” Of course, nobody was interested. What did it matter if a group of kids, hundreds of miles away, were apparently capable of performing some flips? “No, it’s not like that, these guys are insane! You have to see the way they move! These guys are different!” Nobody at my school could understand my enthusiasm, and for good reason – nobody at my school had ever seen or heard of tricking. This was 8 years ago, well before myspace, youtube, or Ong Bak, for that matter. This was well before even I knew what tricking truly is. But, I was already hooked.

I had to learn. Everyday tricking was the only thing on my mind. I was in my backyard constantly doing cartwheels and in my play room burning my back trying to windmill on old, faded carpet. My frail, stiff body quickly tired and absolutely shut out the idea of any aerial techniques. I don’t care! I need to learn this! I continued everyday for over a year, slowly but surely developing my body and confidence.

It’s time. I need to learn this tricking; I need to learn the butterfly. I devoted everything I had to the technique. I fell on my side countless times; i looked like a fool stumbling over at the park, over and over again. Regardless of that, I became more familiar with the technique and gradually sharpened my form. Cleaner, cleaner, cleaner.

Hey Dad. I know what I want for my birthday: a digital camera. With this, I’ll be able to see myself, and analyze my technique. Sure son, what model do you want? This one’s nice.

Jesus, my technique was far from clean! It wasn’t even close to a butterfly; it was more like a fat caterpillar. I had to fix this. I had to practice more. So I practiced, all the time. I practiced flinging my body from high to low to high again and again, and again. Was it impressive? No, not really. Was it something that everyone could do? Probably, but it would take them practice. Oh wait, oh my god!

I just landed my first butterfly! I just landed my first trick!

I was 15 years old and had spent more than a year and a half on mindless training. I did innumerable pushups, loads of crunches, and countless cartwheels. I had trained in an ignorant almost counter productive fashion, but it finally produced results. I could do a butterfly, and it was clean. My friends approved. “Hey, that’s actually pretty cool, do you think you could teach me?” Yes, I thought to myself, I could teach you – BECAUSE I CAN DO IT!!

With the passing of time came knowledge about tricking. I learned about the origins of the sport, current practitioners, and various techniques. I had a copy of the infamous ‘wushu’ video, and became an active visitor to bilang and tricks tutorials. I spent every free second watching tricking videos or training. Tricking was, more than ever, the center of my life. I began to learn about proper training habits from my older, close friend Nic Nichols, who was an active body builder. I cleaned up my diet and refined my training. I began to see change, but it was too slow for me. I wanted to be better, now.

I joined my school’s all girl gymnastics team. Yes, I was laughed at by everyone and it was hard. But, tricking was everything to me and I was willing to sacrifice my social life for it. I sat in the cafeteria everyday after school for two and a half hours, patiently waiting for wrestling practice to end and gymnastics practice to start. I was surrounded by girls and told to do split leaps and pirouettes, often in the presence of the wrestling team. Whatever, I was improving. In my first season of gymnastics I significantly developed my strength, flexibility, and coordination. Even if no one knew it, I was no longer a nerd. I had become an athlete, and I was proud of it.

I became more intwined in the online tricking community and befriended the likes of Turkeyman, Empire, Waterboy, Spike, Crazy Asian, Furious Angle, and Ceopopeye. I even got Steve Terada’s screen name, but didn’t dare send a god like him a message. I often got into tricking chat rooms and became an active member on the then very young, very small Tricks Tutorials forums. I read every article I could find on anything related to resistance training, flexibility, and nutrition. I scolded my parents’ lax eating habits and rid my diet of anything artificial. I was learning the essence of dedication.

Jeff Shearer, one of my closest friends, got a trampoline during my junior year of high school. I was well conditioned and highly motivated, and spent literally days and nights at Jeff’s house on the trampoline. After weeks of visualization, I finally sacked up and went for my first backflip, ever. My training paid off; the move came quick and naturally. My body had learned how to invert itself and hang in suspension. An indescribable ecstasy took over – I was making real progress. Some of the warmest moments of my youth were spent on that trampoline. Thanks, Jeff.

No, I don’t want to stop here. Everything I’ve done so far has only made me happier. I don’t care about looking cool anymore, this is about being the best I can be. I want to advance like all the other tricksters. I want to flip like Waterboy and kick like Turkeyman. I need to learn the backflip on ground. Dad, come here. Ryan, stand there. Ok, just flip me, ok? 1…2..3!!

I could do standing backflips on the grass within two months. Kevin, the same skinny guy doing cartwheels from one year before, was now the only guy at school who could backflip. Off of benches, in the cafeteria, in my backyard – I did them everywhere. My close knit group of friends became hooked. Day after day, Rob, Ryan, Jeff, Wilson, Hunter, Sasha, and myself would gather in my backyard and practice tricking. We jumped over trash cans, flipped onto Rob’s lawn chair cushions, and crashed on our backs. We had the time of our lives and escaped from the stress of school, work, and family.

When gymnastics began next year, a group of guys showed up to practice. Nic, Rob, and Ryan all came to practice on a regular basis. Hunter and I joined a new fitness gym only minutes from my house. My progress began to accelerate from the presence and encouragement of friends. Wall flips, aerials, side flips, gainers, websters, front flips, and 540s all became part of my rapidly expanding tricking repertoire. Every school dance, I owned the floor after tearing things up with a flash kick or gainer. I became the authority for flips at Redmond High School and was approached by many students eager to learn. The social highlight came when an article was published in the newspaper about tricking and its place in my life.

During my last year of high school I began commuting to Emerald City Gymnastics twice a week. Mondays and Wednesdays were nights for tricking and the only thing on my mind every other day. Each cent from my part time job went into the twenty-five dollar, ninety minute gym sessions. Here, I met Aaron, the best coach and mentor I have ever had. Aaron was an olympic skier and inhumanly fit. The man could jump onto a swiss ball half his height and balance as if it was nothing. He performed double jumps, in real life. Moreover, he taught me to be confident in myself and follow my dreams. Aaron pushed me to my mental limits and convinced me it was possible to do anything if only I believed in it. His coaching brought me into a world of tricking beyond that of the trick busters.

My senior year, I learned gainer fulls, the technique of my dreams. It was a move I literally thought to be impossible only a few years earlier. I became so confident in my gainer fulls I threw them on concrete, at school, and even at a rave under a field of flashing lights. I had support, ability, and potential. College applications were done and classes were easy; training became my only focus. Larry Chen, (now known as Rizzice) a local guy interested in tricking, contacted me through the tricks tutorials forum and quickly assimilated into our group. Tricking was everything. I began making video tutorials and trying moves few people had ever landed. The only memory from my fourth year school is a blur of sensations: the bass from Rob’s decked out Focus, the sweet, tangy smell of a fresh Monster soda, and the incredible high of training with friends. That summer, I spent almost everyday with Larry at the beautiful waterfront in Kirkland. They were the best days of my life. Thanks, Larry.

Just before moving out for college I got a mail from a young, talented man named Jonathan Pierce. “Hey Dogen, I’m going to be moving up to Seattle for a while. We should get together and train.” Larry and I met Jon in August at the University of Washington. It was the first time I met someone who was better than me at tricking, and it completely floored me.

My motivation sky rocketed. I upped my training and swore to myself – I’m going to catch up with Jon. I need to get this good. The sampler Jon released later that year became my favorite tricking video of all time; to this day, it continues to motivate me. Jon, Larry, Nathan and I formed Team BT late that summer and tricked all the time, everywhere.

I entered UW September, 2005. Within weeks I befriended the ever amiable Ben Friedman, Bobby Nguyen, Tylee Chen, and Nathan Ma, a group of break dancers and the best guys I know. We trained 3 times a week together in Mat Room A, polishing our skills to the undeniably catchy thump of a break beat. In spring, I tricked in the quad under the beautiful cherry blossoms and made sampler after sampler, day after day. Visitors began to come from other schools and cities to train with me and Larry. My tricks were clean, fast, and powerful. Everyday I felt fantastic.

Everyday I woke up and thought, “I love the world I live in. I love training. I would not trade my life for anything – not anything.” I felt I was becoming a little bit better than the person I was the day before. Many of my fraternity brothers partied night after night, bellowing and bragging about the high number of women they were able to fondle in a drunken stupor. I laughed from a distance and continued to train; my world was completely locked. The thought of drinking or partying, the mere idea of tainting my structured lifestyle, was absolutely out of the question. My concentration, love for training, and will for progress created an invisible, and yet almost tangible wall of determination. I loved every minute of it.

My fraternity brother and great friend Austin Wang suggested I create a tricking website at the end of my freshman year. I loved the idea and we began working on it immediately. If you’re reading this now, there’s a high possibility you know about the website and what it has become. So, if you’re reading this now, then I have to say thank you for your support. The website has flourished into a popular tricking/Japan interest community and a means of self expression for myself and hundreds of others. Thanks Austin, means a lot.

Taimatsu surprised me with a quick visit from Alaska during my first summer at college. Despite being sore from work (now teaching kids at Emerald City Gymnastics), we had two incredible, high energy sessions. His aggressive tumbling abilities and bright outlook provided two days of non-stop adrenaline and laughs. Thanks, Taimatsu.

My second year of college followed suit with more relentless training. Before my 8:30 classes I biked to gym with Scott Winges and performed endless water-based dynamic training. In the afternoon we lifted together and went to Cascade Elite Gymnastics with Jake for rings training, group stretching, and full body workouts. The results were absolutely tremendous. I quickly flattened my front splits and developed immense upper body strength. I could perform ten handstand pushups without any form of support, climb a full rope twice without my legs, and do twenty pull ups without breaking a sweat. Most of all, my tricks were the best they have ever been. Larry and I were called from Canada to attend a small gathering.

The BC gathering was one of the greatest experiences of my life. Larry and I drove up to Vancouver BC and tricked with Reim, Reza, Leim, Daryl, and Ryan, for three days. Our gym session was out of this world – it was unquestionably the most pumped I have ever been. I landed several new moves and combos, and met a bunch of new tricksters who shared my passion for development. Despite abrupt introductions, we were best friends within minutes, rattling off tricking lingo like a second language. This is where I belong. This is who I am. I love this.

Just before my study abroad, I compiled a sampler from all my best college footage. It was the second major sampler I ever made and the first I was truly proud of.

Though my focus was shifted to study, I continued to trick in Japan and maintain training. I met guys from all over, including the country’s best, Kambe Yukata and Andy Koji.

I tricked under the blooming Sakura in Shinjuku, alone in a quiet park next to a castle, and in front of my favorite band. Even halfway around the world, tricking was the best thing I could show for myself, and the best thing I could show for America. “This is tricking, it’s a new sport born in America. Why not train together?” I became actively involved with the Keio dance team, Jade, and taught many of their members. Tricking provided me a free pass through the traditionally closed doors of Japan’s tight knit culture.

I came back to the states early August 2008 and resumed all my efforts on tricking. Since then, DK, Kaden L, Justin G, and a handful of others have honored me with several out of states visits to Seattle. Thank you guys, you truly cannot imagine what it means to me.

Tricking with Dan and Larry

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the Quad with Justin

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After tricking with Kaden

Even without the tricking, the fact I was able to meet these guys makes me truly proud to have this website. I had the time of my life with all of you. Thank you.

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I can’t count how many times I cried while writing this. My life for nearly a decade now has been dedicated almost exclusively to tricking. All of my best memories, everything I have to be proud of, it is all a direct result of tricking. Tricking gave me confidence, a respectable body, the ability to focus my will, and absolutely above all, the most amazing friends I could ever ask for.

 

Regardless of the fact that I am not a talented trickster, the reality I spent my entire college life completely and utterly dedicated to athleticism, and the notion I may have ruined up to decades of my later life due to injuries, I love tricking. No matter what job I land or who I meet – no matter what happens to me for the rest of my life, I will never forget, regret, or bemoan one second I spent tricking. Tricking is the core of my character and absolutely the best thing that ever happened to me.

My final countdown ends this June. Until then,

Train hard.

Hello friends, Dogentricks.com here.

It is 2:37 AM on March 1, 2009. I am alone; I feel free and peaceful.

I am a number in society and I behave as that figure while in such a setting.

I am floating in my mind miles from the ordinary.

I am Dogentricks.com.

I am all of the above and more than anything else, I feel the need to write.

I am going through a very strange stage in my life. To be more specific, I feel the way which I view the world and the people around me is gradually changing. Everyday I wake up and feel a little bit less like myself, or at least the self I once was. This metamorphosis began May 1st, 2008.

I had just come out of the shower and felt fantastic. Anxious to check my mail, I walked to my computer, which dully illuminated the dark room in a soft white glow. Of course, before I do anything I my computer, I need music. iTunes’ Random flipped on Supercar’s Yumegiwa Last boy, the pool sweeping song of my youth. I became curious and did a search of Supercar on youtube. May 1st, 2008 was the first day I ever heard “Warning Bell.” To be more specific, I came across the Last Live version on Youtube. This is that video – I encourage you to sit alone in a quiet, dark room and watch. Release your preconceptions and experience the indescribable emotion embedded in this song. Let yourself go.

I felt absolutely dumbfounded after watching this video. It was as if a flood of feelings, an avalanche of ideas, a rush of unexplainable energy swept over my body and enveloped my mind. It was as if the song wiped and rewrote my concept of life. Everything I knew, every fact I had ever learned, every piece of information I had read, heard, or experienced in my until then 20 year existence was seized and completely erased. It was as if I had been reborn.

After the video ended, I wiped the tears from my cheeks, stood, and slowly walked towards my bed. In a breathless joy, I collapsed onto the the soft futon and immediately fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up the next morning, I was sure the whole experience had been a dream.

It was not a dream. I watched the video the again and immediately returned to the dream-like state. It felt good.

To be honest, I was scared to tell anyone about it. First, I wasn’t even sure how to describe it. “Have you ever zoned out?” isn’t enough because it doesn’t capture the beauty of the state. “Have you ever been in a trance?” doesn’t work either because it fails to communicate the entirely conscious aspect of the condition. Moreover, I expected even a suitable description would be answered by harsh, if not doubtful words. I eventually spoke with someone about it later, but was met with a tone of akward denial. Incidentally, most of my close friends do not read this website, and know little about the inner workings of my mind.

That is to say, I am usually quite a different person on my website and in reality. This is the result of preconceptions. Not surprisingly, I am often surrounded by people who have known me for several years. Those who lack previous knowledge are typically individuals I meet through friends and acquaintances. As a result, they develop a portrait of my behavior through the eyes of our mutual connection. Thus, my existence is reaffirmed by that which is seen and heard by others and not by which is thought and possessed by myself.

In realizing this, I have come to truly treasure the opportunity of meeting completely new people — such is a chance to create an impression accurate to myself. Then, in a sort of bittersweet and backward fashion, those who know me least become those who know me best, while those who have known me for ages are left with the image of Dogentricks.com they have known for so long. This creates a sort of divided energy which exists in my being and seeks release.

I hope to use this knowledge of myself and recreate the best me. With any luck, I can bring some form of joy and inspiration to others.

Oh dear it is now 4:32 AM. Part of me really wants to finish writing this blog, but another part says, “Dogentricks.com, it is 4:33 AM. You should sleep because that is the correct choice.” We will go for the in-between. I hope you enjoy this very incomplete, incoherent, and impossible blog, which is probably full of typos, not to mention an introduction and body with enough momentum to drive a young man mad! Doh!

Anyway, thanks everyone for reading this. I appreciate every pair of eyes which reflect these words.

Train hard.

Random link recommendation: Cake fail for every occasion- http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com

Hello everyone!

First of all, I apologise for not posting this earlier. To make it up to you all, the next entry will be posted much sooner.

Recently I was privileged enough to undertake a placement in a neonatology ward (ward for newborns). For what I was doing there, let us rewind to a week before that, when I was shadowing a physiotherapist.

The physiotherapist had a session scheduled for an infant that was experiencing breathing difficulties. After observing various examinations and attending a discussion over a patient who was situated in the intensive care ward, I was going to learn how breathing therapy was done. Awesome!

But it wasn’t exactly what I was expecting. As I sidled up to the right side of the incubator, grabbed a chair to sit on and peered in, I was literally dumbfounded. Inside laid a tiny, premature newborn with various tubes and wires strapped to it. Its sheer size could rival a babyborn doll.

It was also bloody adorable.

Okay, I’ve seen pictures of myself in an incubator as I was born eight weeks premature. But personally seeing a premature newborn up front, one that was born sixteen weeks premature, I was awe-struck.

Its size, however, wasn’t the reason for my awe. See, in that moment I realised how vulnerable this little bundle was; how dependent on the medical staff it was; how it had come a long way in the last week or so, since its birth. Never before had I really understood the claim ‘babies are miracles’ until that point.

I’m sure you’ve all heard the phrase ‘babies are miracles’ and have either witnessed other people or personally shot this idea down as it does not follow the definition of a miracle. That or you simply don’t believe in miracles. Miracles are events that are supernatural in origin and therefore an act of God or events that defy the laws of nature. We won’t go into whether these laws of nature really do exist but let’s say they do. It is normal for a baby to be born at 37 to 42 weeks. It is not normal for them to be born much earlier and survive. Their fragile lives are endangered; they are much more susceptible to illnesses as well as respiratory and nourishment problems.

Needless to say, it was very difficult for me to concentrate on the techniques the physio was demonstrating. I was completely enamoured with the infant.

But I didn’t want it to end at just one session. I wanted to learn more, participate in consultations and interrogate the mickey out of the physician on duty.

And in doing all of these, my desire to work in a similar environment, a similar position of responsibility only heightened. The soreness in my feet also heightened but I figured it was a minor sacrifice to make.

Question to consider: Have you ever had an encounter related to your dreams/goals/career that left you baffled?

Comments and criticism are more than welcome. ^_^