What's Missing?

I’m fresh out of the trenches but only for a moment. Back at it by morning. In person. Face to face all day. With a bunch of people building and stressing together.

Today I had the opportunity to collaborate, brainstorm and learn from several different teams involved in assembling what will become the broadcast for the first-ever Natural Selection Surf event (February 18 and 20!). Filmmakers, editors, operators, technicians, post-producers, field producers, directors and graphic gods — all wizards of the most specialized and nuanced domains brought together in the name of a feature surf presentation. A whole army of underground talent holed up in little tiny rooms of inspo sacrificing hygiene and health to hit a deadline and cobble together the materials recently captured to tape by a similarly crazed crew of maniacs. I never dreamed I would miss all of this so much.

Remote work was a dream. Work from home! Woohoo! We’ll get so much more done! What could be more productive? Never miss a trash day. Lunch from home! Meetings in PJs, etc (but not really). And it’s true, there are perks of working remotely including magic moments with friends, family, loved ones and those gentleman’s hour surfs that replace long commutes and wasted hours around foosball tables, sad-room microwaves and boardroom huddle ups.

But sitting here, drained of emotion and hydration, still riding the fumes of my fifth coffee of the day, I have to sit back and revel in being back in the paper trenches, solving problems as real as they are ridiculous. The passion that goes into the nuances of surf decisions never cease to amaze. We definitely give a shit and I really appreciate that. We are a special breed.

It's been a while since I felt the energy that comes with being around a stressed out team focused on getting something done together, in person and against most odds in the name of surfing. Damn it was awesome.

There was a time in my life when that was my life. I lived in a state of perpetual deadline with my pirate crew. My Press Gang. Fueled by odd hour beer and coffee cocktails, basically residing within office spaces we made into our own nests through Tecate box decorations and cut out pictures of Archy and Andy doing backhand smashes. That’s all changed now. Sometimes I have to go work in a coffee shop just to see another person, to remember the cadence of life.

I live in a state of perpetual remoteness. Often alone. Jumping from Zoom to Google Meet to Facetime to IG to collaborate and survive, relishing the freedom it affords me but missing the camaraderie. The crazed look in everyone’s eyes as they leap from one challenge to the next, adopting sneaky vices, scratching their way toward the next surf break. The only recharge any of us need. Give us that and we’ll fight all day and night in the name of surfing. It’s our job.—Travis Ferré

[Above art: Ken Price, Security, Domesticality, Leisure, 1994]