Blog relaunching in February/March 2014. New work, new stories and some Tipton & Co. info.
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It happens each year somewhere around April, muscle begins to grow on the skeleton of Winter. At times late in January if I listen hard enough and the wind is just right, I think I can hear the thousands of mouse clicks from hundreds of miles away as hotel rooms are booked en masse. Summer doesn’t mean what it used to for me, not here, but I think that was inevitable.
Before long the clean empty beaches of Winter are cratered by thousands of feet. They’ll run across roads with their kids, they’ll yell for various and obscure reasons, and every year at least one person won’t make it home from the vacation they worked towards all year. Surfing laws will go into effect and swells will have to be watched from the sand, or risk the ticket, suddenly what was free and easy is now pay to play. Restaurants will grow lines and wait times and traffic will test every ounce of patience that can be mustered, driving behind the family idling down the road at 15 miles per hour. I can see heads through the glass looking side to side with fingers permanently pointed on the ends of outstretched arms stuck out of windows. Their gas pedal gathers dust while the brake is slowly timeworn. These are simply the highlights of a complex soup of odd human behavior that takes place each year from June until Labor Day.
I grew up in the water on these beaches and they taught me a lot. In between now and then I’ve lived on the water in other states, and tucked into the mountains in others. Though I’ve been back East for the last little while working on a few projects and found my outlook on the season changed. Not much, but enough. Maybe one day I’ll find the right words and get it all on paper. Or up here.
For the last two seasons I’ve been out hunting unbroken moments inside of the chaos both in and out of the water during the most crowded time of year here. Read More →