Feeling the first surge of energy run through me after a meal, I sit down to write. This is a gift not to be squandered, this deafening smashing beat that flows through me, the writing coming off my fingers, sparks in my mind, swinging on vines through lush forests, kicking over clanging trash cans, rolling […]
Just stumbled on this, wish I’d kept writing more. Some funny stuff, all of it still pretty much true. Like you guys, I’m a little older and wiser now. Enjoy. NFH There are three things that let you know you are truly alive. The opening shock of a parachute, the sound of a sixty firing, and
Gents, Some on-again off-again writing for a book. Thought you’d dig it so far. Comments or edits always welcome. NFH The story starts long before the early morning landfall smell of smoke rises off the Jamaican coast line. Inky black nights, alone in God’s creation, feeling that the world is something more than just bits
40 (more) years in the making Read More »
On a warm May morning last spring I walked out of my house in San Clemente and down the overgrown trail to Trestles’s for an early surf. I paddled out to glass and the peace that comes with a morning session. Tuesday morning, twenty surfers. A four foot swell coming in from the south, just above
Seven Days to Freedom Read More »
13 February 2001. Journal entry: “Tomorrow we will attempt to make San Juan del Sur. We have spent the evening talking with ‘Harmony’ and ’ Slipaway’. The weather reports they have given us are not good. We are running low on food, and the wind is still high. This moment seems very serious now, with