Subtitled – “Reasons why you’ll probably never see pix of me surfing”
Not that the crew of last resort is not busy enough as it is, but OT at the Firecom, combonationed with extended work hours at the hotel de river styx, finishing some tiling, Maimai on vacation....How many hours are there in a day? 24? You sure? Someone fugging’ with the clock. Never mention the regular schedule of a 24 at Firecom. But I did get a surf in, and thats good.
Thats always good.
Segue asked a interesting question the post back ago, “When will we see pictures of YOU surfing?”
Dont hold a breath. Grab a cup a joe, or an adult beverage. Call the dogs in early. Put the kids to bed, cover your ears if your easily offended.
Why?
Can I start now?
Sure, go right ahead.
You see, I tend to go surfing alone. That alone makes it well impossible to snap radical pix of meself. I have taken the Lady C, The daughter, The sons, but in general I float alone. Alone, not lonely.
Then I have a real issue with self-idolization. Surfing magazines, surfing culture, it reeks of ‘aint I great’ commercialism.
Then again, maybe I’d see what a dweeb I am, and quit altogether.
Or, perhaps, I am full of shit, and dont surf at all.
Make ya think? Wonder?
Read on, dear reader, read on.
I love digital photography. It is instantly accessible, quality results, and I still suck at composing a killer photo. A fellow surfer friend, Bud, (808surfer.com) does a great job of pix, of him, the surf, and friends. They are great. It is what floats their boat. Do I wish? Shoots, on the best days, of course.
But aye, there, (or here ) is the rub.
How do you remember that which you cant describe? What will cloud your memory more, yourself, or the cameras eye? Do you accept as the reality of the experience a flash in the pan exposure? Or, perchance, do you stow it away underguard, in place where only you own the key? Water is an amazing thing. It feels so good. Warm or cold, it quenches what thirst you have. It has a demanding personality when she gets pissed.
What memories do you access?
As many as I can.
Like? What is IT like?
First, if you dont fear, you wont survive. Fear is a good thing. Times have come where the lump in my throat at a disappearing horizon makes breathing hard. On a flat surface, think of what would cross your mind if the horizon you see always, is suddenly, gone. Not gone completely, but CLOSER. And it is getting closer. That whole section of planet, it is closing in on you. Sure it is just water. Water that weighs 8.34 pounds per gallon. 7.48 gallons in a cubic foot. The whole side of the earth is coming. To you. You need fear to have respect. You need respect, to survive.
Respect is needed to own. Ownership of the wave, this planet. Mother ocean is giving a up a prime offspring of her creation. Spawned from storms miles away, marched to you, and your shore. Pride of ownership. Control, albeit brief, over nature.
Lady C and I dont talk alot about surf. It is my thing, and it scares her. But she has faith in me, and I, myself. Injuries aside, the light in my eyes after a session is enough said for her to know. And know she does.
Ever pulled out a really irritating thorn? Splinter?
Feels good, Yeah?
Imagine your most intense, mind shattering, earth moving orgasm. Multiply.
Go for round two.
Imagine the love you feel for the person next to you. Multiply.
Imagine the respect you feel for sacrifices made in your name. Tack on a few.
The snowflake, raindrop, mist, fog, dew; that first alight your lawn, home or being.
By the millions.
How, after you have expended immense amounts of effort, sweat, blood...and you are covered in dirt, grease, and grime, you take a step into the shower, or bath...and all that DAY is gone, washed away....
Pictures cant capture what I have locked away, the places, the waves, seen.
Busy guy.
Aloha.
6 comments:
Where the hell is everybody?
This post is poetry.
Add another job description to Hawaii Mark.
Yeah, I don't really get this same experience from roller blading around the park.
Closest thing, maybe...galloping across an open field on the back of a horse with a really fast smooth gait.
There's that point when everything goes quiet, and the mind kicks in the thought, "Yes...this is amazing." No other thought gets in but that bliss.
I haven't gone riding in years.
Hm.
And I don't have a picture of me galloping across a field, either. It just happens too spontaneously...too fast.
I know what you're saying.
Man, you've been cranking out the gems! I'm in total awe.
I agree with writer mom, this piece is awesome.
I couldn't imagine before, and still don't know how it feels to surf in reality, but I come closer now, vicariously, after having read this post.
I suppose the closest natural high that I have ever experienced, that left me with similar feelings would have to be childbirth. It's scary, painful, full of anticipation, intensely love filled and wonder filled, and the most rewarding thing I have ever done. Close, maybe.
Staging pictures would require that you bring someone along and that you PLAN to bring someone along, right? With your schedule you probably have to grab a surf when you can.
Oh this is a beautiful post. I have noticed a poetic quality in other posts of yours too, in the way you break the lines apart and use the pause so well. The closest I can come is when I am taking photos. I don't always remember to breathe because I am so focused, and I do things I wouldn't normally do like climb on the roofs of cars to get a better shot.
If I was there I'd get the pic, maybe.
You've sort of turned "a picture paints a thousand words" on its ass with this post. That's a good thing. I don't need a picture when the post-surf cuddle is so full of intimacy.
My question was pretty much a joke... After all, it's a little difficult to take a picture of yourself surfing.
But that aside, I understand your reluctance to photograph things that cannot be fully captured on film.
I used to feel the same about scuba diving as you seem to feel about surfing... I've logged over 60 hours under the waters of several oceans, and those are the only 60 hours of my life where I've felt completely at peace with the world; All worries are left at the surface. I've never had any desire to document the experience in any form... It's not like I'd forget the feeling.
I say I "used to" feel that way about scuba, because I sadly ruined it for myself. I made the mistake of trying to turn my only pure pleasure into some sort of career, and was working my way toward becoming an instructor. And it sucked ALL of the joy out of diving very quickly, for reasons that probably don't make sense if I spell them out.
Basically, if you are responsible for the lives of other people underwater, you have to carry your stresses along with you beneath the surface... And I quickly forgot how to leave them behind.
I don't dive anymore... But I'll never forget it.
Fantastic entry!
Take care bro,
Aloha,
Luke G.
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