The wind whips through my office window and I feel it in my chest, as if the sea and I are tethered by a cord that is tugged by the wind. I almost hear words on it, calling me to sea like the neighbor kids calling to me from below my bedroom window when I was little....
The Compound Presents 1ft @ 2s | Numero Dos Tomorrow night, Saturday, April 14th from 7-10pm, The Compound is hosting its second annual surf art exhibition to benefit Mission Mexico, a children’s refuge in Southern Mexico. The event is free, but bring your...
It’s Summer here. Officially. My wetsuits, gloves and booties are all packed away (OK, they aren’t packed away, they are on the bathroom floor where I pulled them out of my surf bag– same difference). Last week brought a little swell. I ended up...
Flat spell. Such an apt name. As a surfer, a flat spell can cast a shadow over my life so dark that everything looks grey and dull. I just read an article in Surfer Magazine about how surfing affects serotonin levels. Surfers, apparently, are less depressed than...
In New Smyrna you can drive on the beach. You drive really slow so as not to run over the small children who will dart out in front of you like wild animals; and you park on the beach (very carefully, so as not to flatten the taut ass of a Bud Light drinker who has...
The highway to Chad’s is straight and long. It’s nighttime. My head still hurts and I’m uncomfortable alone. Since the concussion, I feel lost without the context of another person. I don’t trust my thoughts. Everything is confusing. Beside the highway, I see a train...
