062: half moon bay
Posted on May 24, 2009
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ironic that the smallest surf I’ve had since moving here was at Half Moon Bay, within sight of Mavericks. ocean beach is blown out. grey, windy, day. kites are on it. really want to surf. roll the dice, head to the jetty. small and weak at about knee to waist high, but clean. reminds me of spring on the east coast. would be good to have a fish to ride. lots of longboarders here, aggressive ones at that.
light mist falling, masts clinking in the harbor, the radar dome on the hill out on the point white against the grey. a group of people out in the trailer park act as if it is summer weather. sturdy folk. or drunk. or both. nearby there is a native american family with a fire going, all of them wrapped in patterned blankets. further down, a marching band plays happy birthday. there is community here. ragtag, but a community. you don’t get full time transients like this back east. it just gets too cold.
We are paper. : Studio Nufabric
Posted on May 23, 2009
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We are paper. : Studio Nufabric
060: more heat
Posted on May 16, 2009
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the heat is back. it doesn’t happen often here, but when it does, it feels amazing. our apartment out near the beach would be double the rent or more if this warmth happened more consistently. due to the fog (which we have yet to see consistently,) the rent prices are flipped. as a general rule, the further from the beach and closer to the more predictable sun and to the city’s center, the more expensive things get.
clean and solid swell. on it early in the morning: short tubes, sunburn and rubber arms by noon. then lunch at the park chalet with the love. too many beers and mimosas and we stumble across the street and collapse on the beach, laughing. certainly no need to ask for anything more if happiness is what you have.
Photography: Argus C3
Posted on May 16, 2009
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Last winter, I almost bought the Canon 5D Mark II. I bought this camera instead. $13 on ebay, sweet leather case included. It was a way of purposefully limiting myself gear-wise, and rediscovering film. Plus, I had a strong hunch that Canon would be coming out with the poor man’s version of the 5D before long, and that proved to be true.
The Argus C3 has a lot of history behind it. You can read about it here. Most importantly, it seems to be responsible for 35mm becoming the dominant film format. In other words, defining photography as most of us know it; including digital.
I’ll talk a little more about how the camera works in later posts, and get some sample images up. For now, I will say that it’s really fun to use and figure out.
Integrated Campaign: San Francisco Environment
Posted on May 9, 2009
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Recycling moments happen all the time, every day. Most of the time it’s as easy as a simple choice: where do I throw it away? It’s just a matter of changing a mindset. These moments are what we tapped into with the Recycling Moments campaign for San Francisco Environment, the San Francisco organization in charge of educating the public about recycling. This city is one of the most progressive cities in the country when it comes to recycling–and now, composting–but there is always room for improvement until we reach zero waste.
Art direction for integrated campaign to promote recycling in San Francisco. Ogilvy West, San Francisco. See my portfolio for more of the work.
We also created an 8 bit-style game, “Recycle Slam.” I composed the soundtrack using Reason.
Woodshed Films: 180 South
Posted on May 6, 2009
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More awesomeness from Woodshed Films. Check out the trailer.
lynx and hare
Posted on May 5, 2009
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059: fog drift
Posted on May 3, 2009
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socked in thick, can’t see the surf at the Beach.
suit up and go. head out south of VFWs. mild and light southerlies. evan in ankle deep water at the beach edge, once again in the circle of fog. alone. beach disappears. nobody around, even out in the lineup. I could disappear here and no one would know. some overhead sets, it’s glassy, but not all that lined up. real south angle to it, and a stronger west swell filling in. some sneaker sets catching me. hard to tell if I am paddling straight out, or at an angle. outside here it’s a bit spooky. sets rolling in out of the fog. no visibility. silence, but for the cracking lips and roar of the waves. catch a few shoulders, then luck into a decent peak. bitch of a paddle back out, seems harder this time.
then somebody appears out of the fog. we surf the same peak for a short time, not saying anything, staying out of eachother’s way.
then I hear it. a strange noise. waves boom BOOM. I know the sound… and then, high above, like a ship in the fog. Seal Rocks. I have drifted three quarters of a mile to the north without knowing it.
“We’re in the cove, check it out.” I point to the rocks.
He is confused for a second, and then laughs. “Well I guess we’ll just take only rights.” to work our way back south, he means.
the rocks are getting closer, fast. or that’s likely my imagination. the tingle.
either way, we both take our next waves in, and back to the beach.
back to the people.