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Showing posts from April, 2009

Less is more

My friend Skye reckons there's a really simple equation for going surfing - Less Is More. As in, the less you wear, the more waves you get.

It's a cracker isn't it!

That doesn't mean that she uses it to her benefit though! In fact, the Skye I know and love works right against it and always wants to know that she gets waves because she gets them, rather than someone allowing her to have them as a reward for wearing a bikini! The idea that her surfing gets negotiated through how attractive people find her makes her really angry and she rails against being sexualised and against the idea of using that sexualisation. She's pretty rad.

Another friend of mine, Ali, agrees with Skye's equation, but acts differently in response to it.

Yeah, for sure! But it's different at different breaks though. Like, it doesn't really matter at the breaks around the corner, but if I'm going to surf out at Tallows, I'll just wear my swimmers cos I get more waves that way.I…

My Great Aunt

My Great Aunt Lorna, one of my very favourite relatives, died this morning. She was my grandfather's oldest sister, the oldest of his family of 11 siblings (or 12? I can't remember). She was funny and tough and sweet and tiny and absolutely darling and she was 94. As they say, not a bad innings! At her 90th birthday party, she dropped her tissue while she gave a speech but was able to reach straight down to the ground to pick it up without missing a beat!

What a lady!

Until very recently, she lived alone in the same house for as long as most people can remember, across the road from where my dad grew up. When I was a kid, I would go there to visit her with my nan and she would give us sausage rolls and cordial - standard but valued Great Aunt fare.

Some days she would come out and visit my nan (who lived next door to us) and when my sisters and I got home from school we'd go over and visit her and steal scones and cakes and cups of tea. Lorna would call me over and get me to …

Martine Emdur

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Yesterday I was milling about in my friend's kitchen, when I came upon an invite to an exhibition opening that happened last month (so unfortunately we've missed it).

I found myself sitting and staring at the works on the card for ages until I finally got up and asked my friend a bit more about it... The invite was for artist, MartineEmdur*, whose works I find beautiful and calming.


This, believe it or not, is an oil panting!

I couldn't find any more images to copy for you, but Martine has a website with an entire gallery of this particular series located here so you should definitely go and check it out!

*sister of Larry!

The lady is not enthused!

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My friend Lorelei posted this image on her blog the other day to sum up how she was feeling,

and I have to say that it resonates with me at the moment too.

Well at the very least, it resonates with how I feel about going surfing at the moment.

And it's weird because if nothing else in life I can't usually be faulted for my levels of enthusiasm. In fact, you could most usually describe with using words like 'enthusiastic', 'hyperactive', 'annoying' and 'excited' on a regular basis.

But I've felt like this before, so I know it will pass. And due to my propensity for self-analysis I also have a pretty good idea of what it's all about (and that's absolutely none of your business, so stop asking!), so I know that will pass too, but for the moment... quel annoyance! I do keep going out in the water though, but even when I push through that I just can't be arsed paddling for anything. It's awful! And embarrassing. And ugly. It's not…

The first signs...

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The onset of winter is marked by many things - leaves change colour, days get shorter, temperatures drop...

But for me there is one sign in particular that indicates the changing of the seasons and the beginnings of my yearly Winter waist-expansion. And yesterday, I confronted it head-on,


Look at them there - soft, sweet, pink and white with that intriguing dusty covering on the outside. Oh how I love thee, let me count the ways... I demolish them in handfuls straight out of the packet, but for me they really come into their own either toasted over a fire or immersed in hot chocolate! And marshmallows, my own personal dietary nemesis, go on sale every winter! Sale! Right when you're at your weakest and upping the hot chocolate quota, these little puppies become more numerous, affordable and accessible.

Oh the timing!

Oh the injustice!

Oh the sugar content!

(See you in three kilos time...)

Gerry Wedd: Surfer and Potter

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This image from Seasurfboards.com

Early last year I went out to Sea Surfboards to check out an exhibition a friend had told me about. It was great. One of the artists, Gerry Wedd, really struck me and I think about these works often.


Gerry Wedd is a potter who makes amazing works that are both beautiful and are sometimes also functional.

The works that he put in the Natureboy exhibition were not soooo functional but certainly fulfilled the inspiring criteria of art and I spent some time lingering over his tiles, teapots, plates and thongs! Each piece was decorated with images of surfing and with certain surfers that in particular.



(Gerry, if you read this... are there any of those tiles left?)

Tree surfing

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A friend of mine once told me that when he's walking under an avenue of trees, he pretends he's getting barreled.



Those delightful gents over at The Endless Bummer were right - cities really are for surfers!




How Very!

My friend, Noe, is one amazing lady. She is not only a really great friend, but she's also my favourite person to go surfing with.

I miss her.

When Noe and I both lived here, we'd meet before or after work, or pick each other up to go and find waves. We'd hang out in the water between sets and laugh and check out the guys and giggle like little girls. It's as embarrassing as it is fun! We have really great conversations that you can't have with everyone. We have the kinds of conversations that require real trust, intimacy and friendship. We have the kinds of conversations where you admit things that you don't admit to everyone. We talk about the things we're scared of, the things we desire and the things that make us hurt.

We also drink a lot of coffee together.

Noe is not only funny and smart and a great cook (and a great dancer), but she is also talented at designing and making beautiful clothes. One summer, she made versions of 1950s one-pieces that she used…

I'm a sometime cheater!

A few days ago I was waiting at the water's edge for a break in the swell, trying to organise my timing so I could get out past the massive wash that was about to hinder me as I paddled out. The swell was solid and the sweep was still really strong and there were people everywhere trying to score one of the beautiful waves that were peeling off the point and back down towards the town. It was a good day to not make mistakes. The sets were coming through pretty close in, but every so often a big, fat, wide wave or two would smash through and clean out the crew sitting wide. Funny to watch from the beach though...

Anyway, as I stood waiting, a guy walked down and was standing next to me. He was holding a longboard under his arm, and as I checked him out, I realised he had no legrope. That's not unusual in these parts, but when it's as big and busy as this, even the die-hard-non-legrope-wearing locals bow to that length of plastic to connect them to their board. I had to comme…

The Carpark

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The Pass carpark

I’ve been surfing the Pass the past few days – it’s the only place I can cope with in this swell! I turn my banged up red car into the road towards the beach and hope and hope and hope that I’ll be granted a parking space.
Lots of the locals are parking back down the road at another lookout. It’s a walk from the break, but it’s closer to where we’re all getting washed in. The swell is solid and the sweep is relentless and everyone has to go in and walk back around after each wave.It keeps the numbers in the water down though and it gives your shoulders a break!
The lookout carpark is easier for parking, but it’s also on a busy road, so I sometimes feel a little exposed as I change and pack up my stuff. I park down in the Pass carpark that sits in under the trees and next to the park. It’s a funny place. It’s always full and busy with people talking and yelling at each other and having post-surf chat,
Yeah, got a coupla good ones.
Oi! Have you got some wax, mate?
That last w…