Cave Mum with tear drop van.
Cave sister is a mom too.
Cave Mum with a cat.
Cave mum with her Dad. Looks like she was in trouble.
My Mum works on a island. Stone Harbor. When I was very young, I used to have to go to work with her and hang out. One day I got bored. "Mom, I'm bored," I said. "Well, there's not much I can do for you Brian," she answered. And then she said--and I will never forget this--"why don't you walk down to the beach and watch the surfers."
So I did, I walked straight down 98th street and watched people ride waves. This was before I knew what that was, a time when I looked at the ocean and saw a big place, a big water, not just a shore line with peeling lefts and rights or none at all. So I watched the surfers and something happened, I still remember this, this feeling I felt, soon I found myself in a surf shop buying huge bubble gum stickers and bars of sex wax. I can still remember the smell of wax when I was young, it was a magic smell, it awakened my mind to something I knew nothing about, but craved intensely. Then I got serious about boogie boarding. Then I met the Slug. Then we started surfing. Then I met the Gimp. Then we surfed more. One day, we got slope. I still remember Slug taking off on the top of a curling wave, not just riding the white-wash, and freaking out screaming, learning about "stoke." We got better, we met everyone we know and care dearly about, we travelled, we grew up, some of us went away, some of us stayed, some of us have passed on to another place, and still we surfed, when ever we could, when ever we can, we surf, we, ride, swell. Thanks Mom. I owe everything I have to you. You are rad.
