my father, Bill, is a skydiver, has over 900 jumps to his credit, and is incredibly passionate about the sport. rather, the art, since really there isn't much competition to jumping out of an airplane, and those who become obsessed with skydiving possess qualities I've found in the arts. there are parallels with writing, I think, tho I certainly can't qualify that statement in any coherent fashion. just a gut feeling I have.

so the following pictures are my old man doing what he loves so much last Sat. at a skydiving festival called a boogie at Skydance located in Davis, CA. now why would sane people hop out of a perfectly good airplane of their own volition? passion, I suppose, thrills and love. or something.