From the outlying sandbars of Anguilla to the steep verdant cliffs of Aruba, there presides the danger in solitude, solitude in distance, distance in freedom, and freedom in wind that grazes your scalp with a hot gust. Below the radar and beyond the horizon, they are flung from one coast to the next, finding only the most remote and spectacular specimens of lips, crests, tubes, and fetches. They care not whether they will live or die by the surf; all they have ever known is this spirituality – a religion borne on trust, fraternity, and free will. They are refugees of nowhere living one lifelong surf safari.

Alita, the fox, tried not to mind their dirty glances – she was used to such stares from the crooked men who passed through her mother’s beachside bar in a small Cuban town. All she ever knew of this was their stench of rum and their tasteless humor. Of course, she always knew these two jokers had each other, but sometimes she wondered; despite which she had a stout heard and had known these two since the day she escaped south to Jamaica. She promised herself that she would never look back, only finding her solace in the face of a glistening and fast wave. Fortunately her sense of humor always kept her mind out of the past and in their face.

Jake, the otter, was the only American of the trio. He had grown up surfing the Southern California coast as a teenager and had become disenchanted with the materialistic culture that had consumed the American ethos. He was educated, well-bread, and the youngest of the trio. He knew that his life was better cruising his whims with nothing more than a surfboard and a bracelet his sister had made for him before he left on a dark night across the Mojave Desert. He eventually made his way to Hawaii and Florida where the skills he learned as a child in Orange County’s famed Wedge made him a star of the American coasts. He became an overnight legend known as the best youngster in the circuits. When faced with returning to Huntington, he vanished from the pro scene, barely lasting three seasons. To this day, his two companions still learn from him.

Samuel, the hound, was the quiet one, always with a gaze fixed on the horizon. He watched the clouds form and deflate, day after day. He was the quiet and serious rock of the group, whom they could always count on for sage advice when they found themselves in trouble. Whether trapped against a rocky cliff in pounding surf, imprisoned in a third world country, or hunted by sharks, he always knew how to lead them to a safe resolution. Time and again their trust was tested on his confidence. Yet, it was one dawn aboard a schooner off the west coast of Australia when Alita looked up into his eyes and asked him what he saw. He only replied, “Where we will be for every tomorrow.”This piece is inspired by one of my dearest friends, who lives far away and only by her dreams. She is a constant inspiration.

The image was originally intended as a convention theme poster for Further Confusion 2009 (Surf Safari) - much like my work for Califur. That probably won't happen at this late date, but they say I can at least get this into their conbook despite the late submittal. Hope something works out.

(time: 18 hours, size: 5592 x 3600 pixels)