Last night i watched the movie Riding Giants. I watched it like my life depended on it, unable to silence the amazement and running commentary on my feelings and thoughts that zapped around my body like wild fire.
Riding giants is a surfing documentary directed by pro skater Stacy Peralta. It followed the different and progressive decades of surfing culture starting from the very beginning in the 50’s. For starters that culture to me is the ultimate of cool. So fucking cool that I cant even get the words out to explain. The surfers life, talent, morals, commitments and personality amazes, intrigues and captures me. I often stalk some past friends from the coromandel that i had like Luke Reily and Adam Henderson to see where in the world the big surf has taken them this time. They live on the edge, completely devoted and with such passion that it rules their lives. These groups of guys give themselves to mother earth and show her respect in order for her to do the same. I love it. I love them. And I love the 50’s! the outfits, the style, the barefeet, relaxed naivety and ignorance. The sex and pot, the music and crazy antics to avoid boredom, the adorable flirty girls. The native jungle before life became what it is. The freedom. I wish I could visit there so much!
These men, old men, the first and inventors of big wave riding sat and talked us through their youth. The power and adrenaline and tried to justify to us, mere materialistic imbecile’s, what it was like before. Before we came to ruin it. Firstly they spoke with love and passion. And I mean love and passion. Whether is was because I was wasted and so could really see or whether is was because it was right in front of all of us, but they seemed to ooze or drip with this saturating love of mother earth. She killed some of them which were hard hitting times for the surfing culture, but they loved and respected her and her power. They lived for her, by her. They literally lived for this thrill and chase.
I sat there absorbing this love excited and moved for them, thinking writing is my wave. I know its not as wild, its not a culture or movement, its not dangerous or thrill seeking, but its something that consumes my soul with passion. its something that makes me feel more comfortable, happy, at home and right then anything else in this world.
After time went on in the surfing establishment humans began to destroy it. Again we watched these old men who have lived the dream, well and truly, talk about the change. And I can see how angry they get. And I do too. its why I get angry at humans all the time! We destroy beauty, simplicity, mother earth and all for our own selfish needs and wants. These men lived the hay day. They had it all to themselves and they used it accordingly but with respect. It must be utterly heartbreaking to know what it was, having experienced it, and see what it is today. I think this would hurt me every single day and I worry that in 30 years when I sit back and look at the world I will see it too. right now I can imagine it and hate it but having actually lived it, well, that would truly break my heart.
overall this movie about how surfing came to be captured my soul and a whole heap of emotions within me. it was an experience. something that will now play on my mind for weeks. now thats a good film! i take my hat of to you, again, Stacy Peralta!!!
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