The sort of thing that makes you sadder as days pass instead of better.

O Captain! My Captain!

BY WALT WHITMAN
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
                         But O heart! heart! heart!
                            O the bleeding drops of red,
                               Where on the deck my Captain lies,
                                  Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
                         Here Captain! dear father!
                            This arm beneath your head!
                               It is some dream that on the deck,
                                 You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
                         Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
                            But I with mournful tread,
                               Walk the deck my Captain lies,
                                  Fallen cold and dead.
Source: Leaves of Grass (David McKay, 1891)

“…the whooping, hollering enthusiasm of surfers for whom surfing is a pleasure, not a right.”

Great article by Phil Jarrett on Swellnet: In Praise of Westies

Oddly, where I live/surf, I think it’s been easier for me (a central Qld native - someone from 1,400 kms away) than the guys who’ve “grown up in Cromer” (5 mins away). Which is kind of hilarious. It’s because I don’t give a shit.

There is nothing better than dismantling someone’s expectation that you’re trying to belong. Be proud of where you’re from.

Whatever Forever

 Sara M Lyons

 

St. South

Have you ever seen interiors done so beautifully? You can feel the textures – dried flowers snapping, skin, lace, hair, cold laminate. All the details peculiar to older Australian houses makes it seem like a memory of childhood – the louvred windows, the roll call of houses at the beginning, corrugated iron … And that moment between 3:21 to 3:25 – Oh!