The suns rays filter softly through the Sugar Maple’s on this fine summer day. Local Asians beat out erratic rhythms on their tinny cymbals & drums from one end of the park and the local Baptist Church choir strum their guitars and sing Hallelujah from the other, as Captain Yom and I sweat over Barry taping and peeling to the rhythms of Trout Lake.

Baz is still nude but the candy cane swirled coat is so close I can smell freedom on the wind… I can also smell dog poo… but I guess these are the things one must put up with when living in local parks.

We seem to be attracting other Land Pirates at the moment and have struck up friendships with others living off the grid, my ink spills on the page tonight after sitting cross legged in the park till all hours with another Land Pirate named Bill… His piercing blue eyes sit in a weathered face that has seen many roads. He spoke of time past and of time not yet spent… and for once I sat back and shut my mouth and listened.

This I find is a problem with many people, no one ever listens! Its like they only listen for a gap in the conversation so they can spew as much of their own opinions as possible, covering everyone with their mind stench.

The stories that flow from Bill I will not write down as they are his to tell not mine, but I highly recommend that as a young person when you come across certain characters for once just shut your mouth and take in every word because when life experience told so un-shamelesly is like finding a treasure amongst the garbage.

Thank you to Darek and Bill the Land Pirates for sharing a beer and telling great stories and last but not least thank you to Skye the boy that is more man than most and may the music keep flowing strongly through your veins.

Grandview Park:

Sock-eye Salmon, Alfalfa, Curry Powder, Mung Beans, Vitamin C tablets and random $10 bills are the currency with which we trade with the locals now, Barry seems to attract characters like moths drawn to the light, Violins saw and moan on the grass and young men beat their guitars singing tales of wonder with souls far older than the vessel. For the first time in our lives we feel like we are living in a different era (except for the tasteless plastic people movers parked on the street). But the people… timeless.

“Trim your locks for a new pair of socks” we shout “Trim ya locks fo what ever ya gots” Afros, Gingers, 70’s shags and the punk kids are the first patrons of Barry Pimpin, we don’t make a lot but seeing the appreciation of some people turns a once bothered job in to a labor of love.

 

          

Spanish Banks/Jericho:

Humungus tankers squat in the water whilst tiny white boats sail around them like the dandruff that falls from my comb, fallen trees stripped of their limbs line the sand in perpendicular arrangement, people perch upon them like water birds perched on a hippopotamus’s arse. The sand is the colour of the muck that I scrape from behind my ears. I’m making Spanish Banks sound bad… It is most certainly not!

The snow clings to the mountains desperately, the maple trees gently shade Barry as the Cosmic Barber’s cook breakfast, sip ‘erbal tea and drink in the vista from Barry’s  comfortable womb.

VIEUX FARKA TOUR´E is the sound and Africa Rising makes our feathers, space men and beads shake and moan (we have been making jewelery).

Locals smile as they walk by… did I tell you that Barry has finally hit puberty and has grown a mustache.  (We are so proud of Barry he has been behaving very well lately and it is a pleasure to commune with him)

 

*Found object - Just like Mamme Noodles

Back to the beach… The runners run, the beach bums bum, the hover crafts hover, the swimmers swim, the tourists stare and the Cosmic Barber’s just are. Trading has been grand on Spanish banks… Korean quisine, Will the ice cream man hooked us up with some tasty delights, chicken and salmon warps and enough lentils to build an igloo (if we weren’t on the beach).

Barry has decided that after another week of trading in Vancouver it is time for getting out of the city to howl at the moon dance around the fire and share stories with a special old friend who will be joining us on our adventure. Welcome Angus we look forward to your face.

  

*Found object - Skatelegs zine

*Found object - Hand made business cards like ours…

  

*Found objects - Grocery delivery & Blog promo cards

Vandalism
The vandalism of Barry with his broken glasses, stolen goods and almost again the end of our faith in people has disappointed the Cosmic Barbers deeply although we have decided not to let our tears and this continued bad luck affect our mission as we are currently living our dreams.

There are many greedy people among us… But the true shine brightly to the end of their days and forever onwards in the hearts of their beloved. So let us not cry over spilt milk and look forward instead of backwards.

So sorry folks no photos for a while as Zachariah is shooting on the Holga and the analogue process is expensive and slow. We promise to continue documenting the story in anyway possible so check us out in a little while and keep your fingers crossed for us.

We hope you have liked the hair cuts and stories.

Narwhales rule and thieves smoke a donkey’s…

To blog or not to blog.

Ps. Thank you to all the people who have given generously especially Pamela, Jen, Felicity, Bikes on the drive, Ruth and many more whose names are written on scraps of paper flying around Barry’s insides. Thank you.