words & art by shé

bookshelf

Tag: surfing

  • Surfing Concrete

    I did not know that bringing the RipStik on board Habibi would make me so happy. Like the wetsuit, it’s a reminder of surfing, of fun. You can’t carry groceries on a waveboard. Its only purpose is happiness, flow.  A small skateboard with only two oscillating wheels, riding it replicates surfing. The same muscles engage,…

  • Mine

    Paid the seller, paid the broker, not paying to fix the hull blisters at this expensive marina because the surveyor says it can wait until next year’s haul-out. Habibi is mine, all mine. No one can evict me. No one can raise the rent. I can paint her inside and out — any color! —…

  • Baja Bound

    “I’ll give you a hundred bucks to drive my truck onto the Young Brothers lot,” says the weathered guy outside the port gate. I’d just dropped off my 4Runner for shipping to San Diego. He claims he doesn’t have proper ID for security, and wants to get his (also weathered) vehicle on the barge to…

  • Essay #49: surfista

    Fat, old, ugly — that’s what the mirror said this morning, that bullshit trifecta familiar to many women. Women? Maybe it’s a human condition, not strictly personal, which doesn’t make me feel any better as I try to insert contact lenses so I can go surfing. Fuck. Who am I kidding? Surfing is a young…