Maybe it's the memory of my own short-lived experience of paddling out on a beautiful, quiet early spring morning, and sitting on my ghetto board waiting for a set. I remember looking out over the ocean and feeling my heart swell when I realized there wasn't any other place in the universe I'd rather be at that moment than right there, right then. It was pure joy.
Of course there was the crap shoot of picking a good little wave, the chaos of paddling like a madwoman to catch it, and the exhilaration of being lifted up on to a wave so powerful that stark terror and pure ecstasy became one and the same thing.
Surfing is a lot of things to a lot of people. For me it was totally spiritual. I continue to be in awe.
Watching Surfers at Higgins • 8" X 8" framed to 12" X 12" • $250