Saturday, February 21, 2009



I was suppose to get some work done today. In fact I have piles and piles of crap sitting just waiting for me to motivate. So today I woke up bright and early before the sun was out and went surfing. Good thing about piles of work, they will still be there manana.

The take.*

Sun rise on the soul surfer.

Green Hills (of Earth) dreaming about a classy Channel Islands girl.

*Music by the Mother Hips; Channel Islands Girl performed live at the Soho Santa Barbara October 06, 2006.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Day 265

Day 265
Saturday February 7th

Secret Surf Spot

A major winter swell was predicted to hit the left coast early this weekend. It just happened that the bulk of that swell would hit within driving distance of the couch I was sleeping on. We checked the buoys and they were reading right around 4ish feet. Not great but not too bad either. Right at the butt crack of dawn I got up, dressed, stumbled around looking for coffee, bumped into things and generally made a mess getting ready. It was barely 5 in the AM can you blame me! The rain was holding steady in a lite drizzle. The buoys though were giving us more and more hope. Coffee & rain coat firmly in hand we headed out. As I am atrocious at directions I can't quite recall if we headed north or south. We drove through the storm for a bit, it seemed like it could have been 20 minutes but it may just as well have been 4 hours.

Without much fan fare we pulled off the desolate stretch of highway and parked in a mud puddle. We were here, but not really. We still had to hike a hardy 4+ miles over private property patrolled by shotgun totting red necks (I am still not sure if they are suppose to be protecting their virgin ranch lands or their freckled daughters chastity-- suppose it doesn't matter, a shotgun is a shotgun!). Then again it may have only been a 100 yard hike but with a bag full of camera gear, video gear, audio gear, the prospect of irritable ranchers with guns, and dueling banjos playing in my mind's eye over and over it may have just seemed like 4+ miles.

The wet muddy walk went without incident. The morning scenery was breath taking. The rain had let up a bit thankfully. I didn't feel like I was in California at all. We were surrounded by lush green hills and towering seaside cliffs. The ocean below us pounded itself against the rocky bluffs with one angry wave after another. The incoming swell had a gun-metal blueish gray tone of cold seriousness. Sets were rolling in fairly regulary. Most stayed right around just above head high. Every now and again a double over-head beast would jack up and throw itself at the shore.

Looking at the swirling boiling mass of cold undertow below me I could taste the faint sulfuric hints of fear in my dry mouth. Looking at the surfers next me I could feel the electricity of anticipation in the air. Poor crazy bastards! If they were even a little bit intimidated they never showed it. Instead they charged across the last field with a bellow and got ready to tap the source.

End of the road, suiting up in the cold.

Look one way then the next, then sprint across four lanes of traffic holding your breath the entire time. Dodging 18 wheelers and the police, wait in the median strip for an opening. Yup this is exactly why I crawled out of bed at 5AM...!

Sign? What sign?

The long walk in is actually quicker then the paddle out I've heard. I am not sure I believe it.

Piddle paddle puddle.

Timing the sets, drooling the whole time.

Almost there.

Just in time.

Vice Vickford sex-waxing it up.

Butters follows suit.

Hints of Al.

One way down.

The other way down.

Photo monkey.

Dogs of Winter.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Days 261- 264

Day 264
Friday February 6th

I took a day off from work to rustle up some Final Cut action. I spent the majority of the day editing. It is amazing how quickly the hours can tick by when you are deep in the poop you know. The editing itself went pretty well given the fact the actually shooting of the short message was a total craps shoot. The production value was pretty poor, all my fault. I have no one to blame but myself.

When I showed up to shoot the my break out box was making a funny noise when I shook it (so don't shake it!). That meant no wireless lav mics. The batteries in the shotgun mics had drained down to zero because I never turned them off the last time I shot. Of course I had pirated batteries from my camera bag for a head lamp one night and never thought to replace them. Looks like we have to go with the on-board mic (big GROAN). Not only that but I pulled out my head phones to use at the editing station at work so I could not even check myself when I was winging it. I couldn't get the manual white balance to function on the camera and had to wing it with the preset fixings. This gave everything either a magenta color cast or a greenish hue. Not very appealing.

Despite all that the shooting itself went pretty smoothly for the most part. And now we still had to suck it up and edit. And this is how it turned out. Forget about everything else. It is the message that takes priority. I honestly believe that this story and this message has so much power and real human emotion that even with my piss poor planning, it shines through amazingly well.

The finished message can be seen here: Dear Mr. President

Day 263
Thursday February 5th

Cubensis show, yah we didn't go. Spent the night blogging away and editing photos/video for this new project. It was pretty darn productive but not nearly as much fun!

Day 262
Wednesday Febraury 4th

Spent another evening with la familia and filmed a short message to President Obama.

Letter to Obama.

Day 261
Tuesday February 3rd

For lack of a better word, Lorem Ipsum.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Day 257- 260

Day 260
Monday February 2nd

Hot Springs

Chillaxing in the moon light California Soul style.

Day 259
Sunday February 1st

Redondo Beach & Stoney Point

Master of Reality (V5), Stoney Point.

Echoes of Chouinard.

Master's thumb- toe match & hold on.

Day 258
Saturday January 31st

Early Morning
VTA Harbour


Dock Stroll.

Shark Pup.

Sea Urchins-- delicate, not so much; delicacy, quite.

Urchin Diver's Fingers.

Ginger Slices.


Late Afternoon
Redondo Beach Harbour


Sunset found us in Redondo Beach Harbour, enjoying the sinking rays and Chico's finest merry little brew. After three plus hours to drive all of 65 miles, it was a welcomed destination.

Focus is overrated. Perception isn't.

Ms. Green on the poop deck.

BamBam still waiting patiently for the encore.

Below Deck.

Day 257
Friday January 30th

I am sitting down editing away when all of a sudden I am tackled by a flurry of slobbering fur and flying paws. Lucy. Hello. This would happen about 4.8 times each minute, every minute. Seems like Lucy is fitting right in without a problem.

Lucy is a very "hands on" executive producer.

BamBam teaching Lucy the finer points of economic sustainability in a shrinking trickle down market in terms of macro-indicators on foreign exchanges. She picked it up quicker then I did.