“Quit rootin' around in your thoughts, boy.”
I've started and stopped writing this more times than I'd like to admit. Maybe because I've never been particularly comfortable calling myself an artist. Or a businessperson, for that matter. Honestly, both titles feel a little generous sometimes.
Or maybe because explaining where STRGHT has been means being honest about where I've been, too.
We've been around for a while. We've made a lot of skateboards, met some incredible people, and found our way into some pretty cool places. (Limited-edition collaborations with Metallica, boards for Ty Dolla $ign, DJ Mustard, and YG, skateboards for employees to ride around Instagram's headquarters, and even a commissioned board for Snoop Dogg's 50th birthday.) Still kind of wild to type that.
And then, we sort of disappeared.
It's a strange feeling, looking at your life and realizing you've somehow become someone you never intended to be. Especially when you know that a lot of the distance between who you are and who you wanted to be was created by your own decisions. There were times when it would've been easier to walk away from everything I started.
So I did. Hehe.
But Art has a way of finding you.
I now believe that Art is redemptive by nature. It takes what is ordinary, overlooked, broken, or unfinished and makes something beautiful out of it. It doesn't demand perfection from the person creating it. It just asks them to keep showing up. Art has no quit in it. So it asks for faithfulness from us, too.
Even when I walked away from it, Art was everywhere. In the things I saw, the people I met, the places I went. It kept reminding me that whether I realized it or not, I was creating something just by existing. That something was me.
The strange part is that the process didn't stop just because I stopped paying attention. I could walk away from a passion, a business, or a half-finished project. But I couldn't walk away from the work of becoming someone. Whether I was paying attention or not, the work was happening. And if you're anything like me, sometimes you look at what you've been creating and realize it's not quite what you had in mind.
Maybe that's why Art has always meant so much to me. Even at my worst, the desire to create was calling me toward something better. Not because I was particularly talented or deserving, but because I believe that desire was given to me by a Creator who doesn't give up on what He's made.
And I've been thinking about that a lot lately. Anyone who's ever made something they love knows the feeling. You keep coming back to it. You notice things you want to change. Things you could make better.
Even when everyone else thinks it's finished, you still see what it could become.
Because it's an expression of you.
You don't have to believe in God to understand that feeling. But I wonder if it's one of the simplest ways we can understand Him. That maybe our desire to keep working on the things we create is a reflection of a Creator who isn't finished with what He's made.
Us.
And sometimes I wonder, are we really forming the Art, or is the Art forming us? Maybe we're all just created beings creating things because it's the most natural expression of love we have?
Whatever though... I better shut up because this is getting really deep, and somewhere in my head there's an old Wild West cowboy waiting to tell me to "quit rootin' around in your thoughts, boy, and ride on back to your mama in Ogallala if you wanna whine about expression and the Almighty!"
Anyway.
Back to an idea that's grown up a little alongside me. I've always wanted to make something people would keep. Something that could take you back to a good memory or make you imagine somewhere you haven't been yet. Even if it only inspires a thought or a feeling for just a second, that's always been enough for me.
Back home.
And that's exactly where I've always wanted our skateboards to end up. When I started STRGHT, I wanted to make skateboards people would love to ride. But I also wanted to make something that could find its place in a home just as naturally as it could on the street.
Not just a skateboard with artwork on it, but a skateboard that is the artwork.
Every board we make is still sand carved and painted by hand. Every piece still carries the imperfections and fingerprints that make it one of one. The reason we create hasn't changed, and this next chapter begins with the same belief we had from the very beginning: there's always going to be something beautiful worth making.
Because people are beautiful, and I think there's something special about one person making something for another.
I'm grateful for everyone who's been part of the story so far, whether you've been here from the beginning or you're just finding us today.
I was only supposed to write about a website. (Freaking boring.) Somehow that turned into all this. I don't know where our art has taken you, or where it might take you next.
But I'm glad it brought us all back here.
Welcome home.
Gabe
Founder & Artist, Strght
Founder & Artist, Strght