Much as I appreciate the humour of the London Underground staff, I don't think we really have much choice in this matter. 

 

Digging this board out of the rack was like finding an old friend. It's a double-stringer 9'4 dain thomas made for himself and still the most uncompromising heavy, flat mal I've ridden.

It takes me back to a pretty golden spell, surfing every day with a group of great people in nsw. I forgot how much this board influenced the way I ride longboards, it's a radical shape with timeless forward trim. Amongst the little peelers at dawn, it flew.

 

Board artwork by:  T Mountain-lion

Book by: if you don't know, now you know. 

 

 

 

 

Henry. On a quest for salvation?

Two Recent Readings (for special people)

 

Little Heart

Take my steps, for now my stride is four of yours 
And have my eyes, though they be not clear
Take my paws, little hand, through doors to thickets tall
We'll run together, no need to fear a fall
For my month is your minute, my year your hour
Dear is the love for you in its power 
And in the heart it will not falter, never fail
Though the cries bawl, the tears be shed, the babe will wail
Just sit upon broad shoulders, watch the world skip by so slow
And cry, for each of us forgets the falling joy inside a tear
You need not worry: know the world can hear
Blessed boy, so dear, little heart be near.

 

 

Rare Hearts

If I put my hand in your hand we can dance
Through forest oaks, out across the sand
Palm to palm through the midnight wood
Between the roots of an oak we stood
Then we laughed at the march of the clock
Warm in the hearth of together's stock
Moonlit waltz cross the silent sea
Endless the dance of you and me
On London rivers, in lisbon squares
Through city lights our footfall bare
Then slower spin the dancing pair
Caught in their web of invisible care
Slower, softer still, rare hearts
Slower, softer still, rare hearts
Now the starting gun, gladness named
The souls of the dancers are one and the same
Forever here forward will the waltz remain
Beauty in the steps, magic the refrain

 

 

 

We got to get back to making things...

 

My extraordinarily talented sister, Sophie, author of After the Snow. 

 

Keep an eye on her here. 

A Lunge for the infinite scarlet plains of dusk to summit through rivers into caves beyond dreams

(After William Golding's dreams of hanging)

Downbeat, tempo down
Crunching shards

Fake frown 
Under false light
Of magnolia shawls

How it dawdles and palls
Tempus Fugit
From fugitive strands
Badly lit
Ropes of pearl beads

Bands Noosing
Blue veins of a neck, a wrist
And a mouth cries 'shibboleth,
I'll break the world with my fist'


Your skin became my pale cloak
Mouth the noosed rope
On which I dangle
Ankles kicking south

And she's still the same
In a different place
With a different name
The waking moment crumbles
And I am the dust
Slipping the weave of the rope
Ankles kicking south

 

The narrative of the unseen

Bad photos of ace work by Glithero

 

 

Fils De Lune


You went barefoot, always barefoot
Soft through the tall grass of then
To dance on high lawns in light rain
To face a zen moon and bask
in the warmth of the world
Mock a swoon
Trace the tune of this
Shatter the chain and
ask endless questions
And shout about everything
Proudly howl your intentions to
Race against time and win
This is how we begin
Again
Your tall and reedy catlike grace
And the moon can barely stifle the grin
That plays upon his face
Barefoot, always barefoot
Footprints in the soot
Sashays through the grass of time
Fine in your movement, the last of the line
is the first
The world lunges in lust
Repeats her order:
hunger, thirst, trust

Timmy Mason Trust Auction

A PLEA FOR HELP and win some collectable surf memorabillia
Please share this among as many of your circles as possible and help children with terminal cancer.


Ebay link:
http://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/SIGNED-Sprout-DVD-Tour-Posters-T-shirts-Screen-Prints-Tmoe-RARE-CoLLECTABLE-/190646048706?pt=UK_Surfing&hash=item2c6363d7c2#ht_1424wt_1354


MSW Link:

You Can WIn a personal collection of stuff gathered over the years for sentimental reasons, reminding me of great surf sessions, fun time and good people I've met along the way…

Recently, I found out that one of the UK's most talented surfboard builders, Tim Mason and wife Kate, lost their 7 year old son, Timmy, to terminal cancer. Timmy was diagnosed with Rhabdomyosarcoma, a rare solid tumor, in June 2008 After 3 years of intensive treatment Timmy sadly passed away on the 11th October 2011. Anyone who has met Tim will know that he's one of the most honest and nicest people in surf culture. As a testament to this the Mason family have started a trust in Timmy's name to help other children and their families when they most need support.

Not only do i think that's an amazingly benevolent act but Timmy is an inspiration in himself. Tim was quoted in a BBC article as saying;

"He never cried. His spirit was very much to help others," Tim said. 

This little boy is twice the man I am.

Tim continues "When Timmy died our battle against cancer did not stop. We wanted to continue fighting cancer. That way we did not feel the battle had been lost."

"We hope to help as many as we can, as best we can, and know this is exactly what Timmy would have wanted."
When you hear news like that having stuff stuck on a shelf for sentimental reasons just seems such a waste. So this is an auction for these collectables where all money received will go to The Timmy Mason Trust so that Timmy's legacy may live on, helping other children when they need it most. This is the vital bit. In order to become a fully fledged charity in the UK Timmy's Trust needs £5000 in the bank through donations to achieve official charity status. So any money raised through this auction will be a great help in establishing the Trust and most importantly getting the money to this children and families who are suffering.

It would be great if this could be achieved as soon as possible, and Tim and Kate know children who a suffering a great deal and have but months to live, so the sooner these donations can be released the greater chance their remaining time can be spent as positively as possible.
  1. A signed copy of 'Sprout' by surfers Dane Peterson and Belinda Baggs (digipak gatefold DVD with booklet)
  2. Sprout Summer Fall U.S. Coastal Tour 2004 Promotional poster print on heavyweight paper stock
  3. This is Killer Mollusk Family Show Event Screen print Poster on heavyweight paper stock celebrating surf artists and musicians
  4. The Present U.S. Tour 2009 promotional poster
  5. Thomas Campbell 'Sing Ding a Ling' Exhibition promotional poster celebrating art show in the Netherlands (has been previously folded)
  6. Green Michel Junod Surfboards Logo T-shirt - Logo designed by Thomas Campbell (home of the Pignar Breadbasket Supreme model)
  7. Black Channel Islands Surfboards t-shirt (Al Merricks boards with team riders such as Rob Machado, Kelly Slater and Tom Curren)
  8. Issue of Carve magazine - British surf magazine with containing interview with Thomas Campbell on the making of Sprout (issue 57 May 2003)

If you can't afford to bid then please consider donating to Timmy's Trust by following this link http://www.timmystrust.org/#/donate/4559772595any amount, however large or small will make a direct difference to a childs life. And if you can't give anything financial but you have something you could donate to the auction then please, let me know!!!


Please keep an eye open for other auctions treating to the trust. Tim is shaping surfboards to auction throughout year, and a few chaps have donated their own items, from surfboards, to books, to DVD's. All items being auctioned can bee seen here;http://www.timmystrust.org/#/auction/4560403965

 

All I've Found (George Greenough)

All I've Found (George Greenough) - Sea Movies from www.KORDUROY.tv on Vimeo.

 

More ace stuff from Australia and the Switch-foot laboratory... How good is this track by Shannon! Shannon is pure stoke and one of the most diverse and accomplished musicians anywhere. 

 

I was glad recently to hear that Surfing World had published a story by George, which includes my first encounter with a shark.

 

Daniel Crockett wrote this bit in 2003. 'Look back at the beach and just as the eyes swivel back around to the horizon something big comes out of the water. As it leisurely breaks the surface, it twists over onto its side, before neatly disappearing 20 meters away from me and over 200 meters out from the beach. I scream like a little girl, adrenalin courses like never ever before in any situation. Scramble for a little one, clutching at straws, ride in and prone out, arms flailing like wind chimes in a storm. The water takes on a nightmarish black hue and the wave peters out. 40 meters of deep gutter and now the fear really starts. Convulsions sweep my body, almost bucking me off my board. Gibbering like a child, a petrified child I hit the beach and don't stop running until I am by my car. I know the meaning of fear.'

 

Clare (Parabola) had a short story published on The Times yesterday... go girl!  

 

 

 

Chasing Flight coming soon

 

Screen grabs by Ollie Banks

 

 

Portrait by Bill Daniel - creator of 'Who Is Bozo Texino?'

 

Coaltrain Hobo Music

Coaltrain they called him
He came out the east
Riding the rail in the
Thin trails of light
He ignited a fire
Set about a howling
Torching, tire-squealing feast
For he packed green notes
In a pewter pot
Long rolls of dough
To blow through
Forgot
On wine
On women
On song
On knowing everything and nothing
And fixing to belong
And fighting in the dirt
Fighting standing up
And falling down
Fighting as a verb, as a noun
Fighting tooth and nail
For belief, for passion
For freedom
Against pale prejudice
For coins
To avert bitterness
Fighting over lonely eyes
For hunger
For the play of the wind in an empty street
Fighting For Air
Without cease
Without remorse
Breaking skin, still less peace
And even the band stops playing
And the dogs release
As they brawl
For he came from the east
Coaltrain
Cast in copper pawl
Soon the time with money
Was bare memory
Scant mentions of
Slim little honey-notes
In the foothills of more encroaching daylight
Dim
Dawn
And even his taste for a fight was worn
Gathered coins gritty
There was pity
Pretty little tongues of scorn
That he read
And learned
to dread
And roared at the night, said
'I am not nothing
I am I
And this I shall be
Until I die'
Then the jackals crept
Amongst his limbs
The hyaena laughter carried
To all ears
And Coaltrain slept between
Bare gutters
Vanquished
The stutters of a wreck or
Mannish boy
These faculties we employ
To protect
And destroy the parasites
Are veneer
Paper thin vestiges
Of the daily fight
To disappear
Which way to implore?
Which way is right?
The music is his last delight
Cold comfort;
Death takes him
In full sight sold
To the marching, unknowing, unfeeling throng
Denied the right to belong
The last Coaltrain Hobo Song

 

 

Still by Ollie Banks

Heartwood Thrall

The wyke rests its wildness
Sleep now, beast, sleep
For we dance in the dawn
Deep in the heartwood
Morning light comes strafing
Parting the ancient oaks
Landslides under urchin paws
New pages in the book of stone
That fiend with giant hands
Who smacks eternal lips
Groans a query:
How long can this last?
Place of endless past
Vast nothingness space
Tree roots to the edge
And beast face behind
With fearsome breath
Salt in the whiskers
Fire torching the groves
Burning to the brine
The beck calling out:
We are clinging to you
You are our one hope
(But in cracked paving
Plants grow thick and free
Infinite capacity
Of this tranquil land
This rock and sand
This mist-wrapped sea,
To heal)
From beast cliff a bird keens
The peel rends
Stitches in the cloth of time
A final, futile roar appends:
This is richer than gold
The horizon lifts
The beck boils
Trees wrap the shoreline bends
Falling from the cliff,
Falling fast
Flightless, unflying, not trying to soar but resigned to the crunch of the floor
Tight with trappings
The last question unheard
Flightless bird