Six words. Maybe more. Surf Stories.
These works continue an investigation into surfing through fragments, observations, and interruptions. Moments that sit somewhere between documentary, memory, criticism, and affection.
The images don't always behave.
Horizons are cut off.
Heads disappear.
Important things happen at the edge of the frame.
The crops are awkward. Deliberately so.
Because surfing rarely happens in the middle of the picture.
The type doesn't sit still either.
Words drift.
Sentences break apart.
Meanings arrive late.
Sometimes the text gets in the way of the image.
Sometimes the image refuses to illustrate the text.
Like surfing, the relationship is rarely straightforward.
I've used disjointed layouts and off-beat compositions to create small moments of tension. The feeling of being slightly out of position. A little too deep. A little too late. Looking in the wrong direction just as something important happens.
The spaces between things matter as much as the things themselves.
White space becomes water.
Margins become distance.
The page becomes another kind of coastline.
These stories are about surfing, but not always directly.
They're about belonging.
Consumption.
Memory.
Environmental responsibility.
Getting older.
Looking for meaning in places that often disappear as soon as they arrive.
Some are six words.
Some couldn't stop at six.
You may notice that too.