Faded From Winter
A Collection of Small Writings
2024
A small but heavy zine. 40 pages of poetry and drawings written over the 2023/2024 winter.
$5.00 includes the zine and shipping.
Inquire here for purchase.
The Pure Epitome of Cold Water Stoke, Fall 2019
Someone had said there might be waves at a particular peninsula and its neighboring cove. After a month or so of being on an island halfway up the coast of Maine, and finding only borderline surfable waves, he was eager to follow the only real lead he had. And with buoys reading 8ft at 12 seconds, things looked promising. Now, driving to the other side of the island didn’t seem so far at all. After all, this was the real reason why he chose to drive across the continent; to spend the fall semester of school in the van in a small harbor town and find cold empty waves… continue reading
The Peanut Gallery, Summer 2019
Wrapped up in a towel and relaxing under a gently balanced shack, he looked over the cobblestone beach and took note. There was not much to say, but the taller one knew the shorter one saw it too. Sitting under a gently balanced, partially decomposed shack on the cobblestones, somewhere on the coast of Taiwan, they sat watching wave after wave roll in unridden. They sat in utter contentment… continue reading
The Stretch Zone, Winter 2019
He and his brother had scraped together what they had to make this trip happen. It started with a flight from Anchorage and Boise respectively, followed by a 32-hour train ride. Next, they had to convince a friend to drive themselves, four surfboards, and enough gear for two weeks in Mexico from Los Angeles to San Diego. All that, just to get to the rental car… continue reading
Drying Out, Fall 2018
It was probably because of the dry electric heat, but he couldn’t help think of a deeper meaning in it. His skin had been progressively getting drier and itchier, and hair and beard shedding more dandruff daily. It had been months now since he had been able to get in the ocean, and it showed. Both mentally and physically he was drying up… continue reading
A Dirtbag Experience, Fall 2018
The ruffling of sleeping bags and zippers is just enough noise to wake him up. He doesn’t mind though, because he knows he still has an hour of rest left. Laying in the damp sleeping bag he falls back to sleep running through what to expect on the climb they will embark on in a few hours… continue reading
The Thrill Is Back, Spring 2018
The lack of crowds and seemingly endless waves seemed to drain all the stoke he had in him. By the time he returned North of the border from a long stint down in Mexico, he had lost the thrill of it all. What had once drawn him to wake up before daybreak and dawn a still wet wetsuit before plunging into cold water, was no longer there… continue reading
Growing Salty by the Sea, Winter 2018
Sitting in a decrepit folding chair, with a cigarette in hand and blown out surf out front, he reminisced on the trip so far. They had begun the trip from Oregon around new years, before exploring Southern California, and preparing for what was to come. Their goal was Todos Santos, the far end of Baja. Having never driven south of San Diego before, they were overly cautious. In an effort to feel prepared he researched border crossings, permits, insurance, packed a Spanish-English dictionary, and even a couple of guidebooks. But that was, what felt like, forever ago… continue reading
A Filling Burrito, Summer 2017
There was no one else in the restaurant, except for one other couple sitting a few tables over. The restaurant was nothing special, he had been to much nicer and more authentic Mexican joints in his time. The food was overpriced, and the atmosphere a bit cold, but it was here, over a now empty plate that he took some time to reflect. With his feet still a bit sandy, his hair not completely dry, and his body sore from the uniquely satisfying post-surf exhaustion, he thought he could get used to this moment by moment schedule… continue reading