Thrashmore

Cato William’s skateboard became his buddy once it was introduced to him by his big brother Pharrell. The skateboard stays with him as close as soul mates and companions. Virginia Beach, Virginia is home of Mount Trashmore. Since the early 70s the city reclaimed the abandoned landfill and transformed the dump into a thriving park where iconic skateboarders poised hand stands on the edge of the deep bowl. Millions who have attended the massive park have gone from one man’s trash into discovering personal treasure. Like admiring every skateboarder, Cato was influenced by Mike Vallely and others here to thrash more. He was a grungy skateboard kid, not the muscle bound basketball player. Growing up in a Black family, his parents were not going to spend twenty dollars on a skate video. In Police Academy 4, the skateboarding scene through the mall was Cato’s skate video. It was just as inspiring and saved money until later on he saw Uno and Mouse from his friends.

Virginia Beach city has it’s own skateboarding scene being a beach city. Surfing created good tidings out of flat surf with a love motion on concrete.  The East Coast Surfing Competition feeds on the heavy surf culture here. If you’re here, you’re on a board. Perpetuate the fun side of this sport. Be slapstick silly. It’s dope. Skateboarding saves lives by not going to the party tonight because he’ll have more fun on the skateboard. It turns into he’s not in the car when this or that happens. Skateboarders are everybody. The people who don’t get it put up skate stoppers. They don’t understand the freedom of movement.

As Cato looks out into the Pacific Ocean he has visited the weirdest and inaccessible corners of the world. It’s like he’s never left his block although he’s been around the world twice from Spain to Hong Kong to Japan and Hawaii where he taught at skate camps. He’s going to keep it VA the rest of his life even as he reflects over the Mission Beach breakers of San Diego, California. His surfboard drips the sea salt shaken water like freezing rain and points toward the voice of God. It’s the side you don not see. A sharp edged marker paints Cato’s name below a angel-winged spray paint can. Thrust drips from the feathers navigating a purple dusk sky. Above the nozzle three arrows point upward toward a navy blue fade to black cartoon moon. The golden sun is like a pool spilled above a circular half-pipe and high surf like a ying and yang.