Excuses

Here's another little bit of something that I found on Vimeo. I've been kinda busy with work & other projects & I haven't been making many photographs lately. I almost feel like I should apologise for posting so many Vimeo clips recently, but then again, whatever, it's my blog after all!

In the meantime, it's always good to keep my eyes & ears open for inspiration & joy. And this, friends, should stir your heart as it did mine: 'Excuses' by The Morning Benders, captured by Yours Truly. Pure wonderfulness. Thank God for the wild, wide gift of music.

Yours Truly Presents: The Morning Benders "Excuses" from Yours Truly on Vimeo.

'Mother Father' by Korey Dane

Korey Dane "Mother Father" from Dana Morris on Vimeo.



I really appreciate this simple, lovely work, musically and visually. Korey Dane documented by Dana Morris. Who needs television when there's so much joy on Vimeo?

Backlit



Here on the east coast of Australia, backlit means early morning surfing along with all the goodness that involves: the first swill of good coffee, the day full of potential & promise, the happiness of anticipation when you check the surf, the first grateful duckdive, the ever-enchanting sunrise show, the clean breeze coming off the land, the vision of green glowing walls twisting in the flare of spray & sunlight. Early-birder Matt Chojnacki, getting his worm.

Mandala



I have been really inspired by the design & craftmanship of Manuel Caro for some years. Here he is featured on Drift.

Bonsai Sunday

Bit of a melancholy old weekend. Checked the surf a couple of times but my heart wasn't in it. Yesterday I spent the morning with my kids in the garden, & put a little piece together of moving pictures:

Bonsai Sunday from Nathan Oldfield on Vimeo.

Farewell Old Mate

My friend Foz died today, killed this morning in a motorcycle accident on the freeway on his way to work. He was only thirty-three years old. A breathing, vibrant, passionate young man, full of promise & hope & expectation.

I haven't been close to him for a while now, but we'd shared a few memories together: so many cold, empty, windy days out at The Point, when no one else could be bothered; quiet talks at the lookout while sea-gazing; waves of a lifetime at empty reef passes in Polynesia; handwritten overseas correspondence in the days before email; a few dinners with my growing family over the years; the wide smile & wild sparkle of his eyes on his wedding day; the wounded disappointment in those same eyes when his marriage failed a few years later.

My favourite memory of Foz is being cocooned with him in the back of a pickup between a pile of surfboards, while driving across Upolu, Western Samoa: blissed out after weeks of surfing ourselves silly, watching the sun sink across the jagged teeth of grand verdant tropical mountains, while drinking several longnecks of good hearty Vailima beer & toasting our good fortune. It was nearly fifteen years ago now, but it doesn't really feel like it. We were young & bullet-proof & life was endless & good.

Right now a southerly change has arrived to kick the guts out of the heat of this summer's day. Rain & wind lash the windows, as if in recognition. It is fitting: so should the sky so rage against dark thief death.

Foz was a surfer & a dreamer. He was deeply in love with the sea & the earth & his creator. Finally, he has arrived to the place of final, everlasting, once-&-for-all homecoming.

Farewell old mate, & welcome home.

Luke Taafe

A couple of weeks ago our friends gave us a print of an artwork by my mate Luke Taafe entitled 'The Last Fish From Koolewong.'



It was a lovely gift & needless to say we were stoked.

Luke is having an art show called with Mia Taninaka called 'The Inbetween' at Retrospect Gallery in Byron starting this Friday night. Luke's work is epic & always worthy of a view.

Toothpick



Detail of Tom Wegener's sixteen foot toothpick handmade by Bill Wallace, one of the revered fathers of the long line of Australian surfboard craftsmen. I rode this board one late afternoon at Tea Tree with Tom a few years ago, & it was a tremendous privilege & true joy to feel the draw of its finless heavily convex hull as it carried across the tiny peelers into the sunset. It was a goosebump afternoon: the light all thick & golden, the sea an old friend gifting clean crisp rollers, the board a living breathing thing moving beneath me, & all that energy travelling through the soles of my my feet & into my heart. Joy & awe. Sure, it was difficult to ride; but sometimes that's precisely the point.