I Leave You With This

...stay inspired

“And there's a place that I've dreamed of
Where I can free my mind
I hear the sounds of the season
And lose all sense of time”

— Coastline, Hollow Coves

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I remember summer sitting on the beach at 7 p.m. as the sun was slowly setting. It was time to dry the kids off and absorb the moment as golden glow slipped behind the sea line. Shivering, sniffling, shoulders holding towels, wrapped around their upper bodies, (after being asked to get out of the water no less than five times), they’d stare heavy in their reflection. Every time was the first time. We’d call ourselves “die hards.” The day isn’t over until the sun sets. I still see those teenage days with friends on Zuma beach in Malibu — or at the campground with mom and dad, walking the train tracks that ran along the sand.

The ocean is a continuous calling season. Country, mountains, deserts, the same. I never want to leave.

Excited, we’d take a family vote on which taco or hamburger stand — hands raised, “oh oh,” constantly changing their minds. But first — a good coffee for mom and dad. We’d top off the meal with local ice-cream and take the long drive home from San Clemente — remembering Riviera Beach until the following weekend. Day trips were affordable and every last ounce of the day counted.

I still see the contentment of sun-drenched faces sound asleep in the back seat. Can’t beat the sea air — I remember mom saying.

One of the things I would savor is a solid magazine. Something really special. Don’t know why I’d save it for the beach. Perhaps it’s places like that you feel more free. Kids are swimming. Husband is running. Then there’s the sleeping lazily face down in the sand. Like a good novel — it’s an escape. He still has a run or a bike ride while I dream.

I have a collection of cool magazines, some dating back 20 years, like Faces Outside 2005, with Jimmy Chin, among 20 new upcoming athletes (and insanely brave “photographer athletes”). I love Jimmy Chin. I’d sit in my office late at night, eyes drooping, sneaking a peek. Then I’d go out and shoot with that feeling of movement and excitement. Whatever came my way.

If only I was 20, I’d think, …following these adventurers in our VW van.

I’d ski with an old hippy style backpack at 40 — camera loaded with a little fast film. Sometimes, I’d stop, click out of my skis and hide under jumps, with John yelling at me “come on! All that snow lodged in your boots isn’t cool.”

I received my first copy of Mountain Gazette this week — and it’s coming with me to our home away from home in Oregon. Our annual two-week summer trek. Perfect.

Stay authentic. Be inspired. And remember, when in doubt, go higher.

Everything is going to be okay. God Bless and see you soon. ox

I thought the cartoon was hilarious. Warning: Mountain Gazette is the real deal. A local handmade endeavor. It takes a few months to get — if they haven’t already ran out :)

P.S. I got an important detail wrong on my summertime break piece. Seemed I was on the tail-end of a telephone game (at the gig) and didn’t check my facts. Edie Brickell is married to Paul Simon. Which is equally as cool. She is friends with Steve Martin. I updated :)