True Florida Stories
To know me is to know the color of my bedroom walls. Not the ones in my college apartment, so plastered in torn magazine covers and fading photo booth strips and stolen Home Depot paint swatches that the beige underneath is barely an afterthought. The ones in my South Florida bedroom, where I started high school and turned 18 and drafted my graduation speech in the dead of night … Read moreRaised on sunshine, addicted to the rays
Screen cracked, battery drained and about seven software updates behind, it was easy to tell the end was near for my iPhone 6s for a while, but that fatal fall was the nail in the coffin … Read moreKeeping the past in my pocket
I step lightly up and down the board, speeding up, slowing down, turning, all the while distributing my weight, doing my best to understand the wave’s language … Read moreThe bug
I step lightly up and down the board, speeding up, slowing down, turning, all the while distributing my weight, doing my best to understand the wave’s language.
The three of us are dancing, and I never want it to end.
The surf community calls this never-ending desire “the bug.” And once you get it, there’s no going back … Read moreThe Bug
Most days, getting out of bed before 8 a.m. is completely out of the question, but I made an exception for Kim’s Donut and Deli. The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon. It crept into the sky and cast an orange and gray hue over Titusville, Florida … Read moreTo Florida: The state that’s breaking my heart