Skateboarding is not suitable for children under 36 years of age.

    

I'm 25 years of age and I first learnt how to skateboard last year, in the skating world I may as well be 86. When I'm skateboarding, much like when I'm surfing, I couldn't give a rats ass about how I look or how old I am to be picking it up. Its something I envy Californians for, they seem unfazed about being a pensioner, owning a skateboard and knowing how to shred. 

Despite being 25 and Mr Sunny (the boyfriend), being 27 on Sunday afternoon, having watched me tootle about on my penny board, he bought a skateboard and we went to play in the park. His skateboard was terrible (the wheels barely revolved) but I could see that he was good. He'd learnt back when he was a kid in Nigeria, which is an unusual situation to say the least. I could tell from the smile spreading across his face that it was perhaps something he'd forgotten he liked and missed. 

Mr Sunny doesn't want to be featured on this blog, he has a corporate job which means a certain level of sensibleness - The photographer in me is stomping her feet however because I got some wonderful shots of him in black and white skateboarding. I did however get some atmospheric pics so here's a round up of our weekend playing! 

You see I wear the same clothes all the time! Can I skate in this...yes ok, I'll wear it then. 

Hopefully I won't get in trouble for this...I couldn't resist putting one photo up of Mr Sunny! I know he looks like he's standing still but the wheels on that skateboard were so rubbish that the man wouldn't pass a tortoise in a race. He did show off some neat little tricks though. 


 




































This photograph is one of my favorite photos I've ever taken. Not because its especially good or pretty but because of what it represents. This is Birmingham city my hometown and I took this two hours into a deep conversation with Mr Sunny, the kind of talk that makes you feel like you've found your kindred spirit. We'd spent hours and hours together already prior to this photograph, so it continues to amaze me that I never notice time when I'm with him, only that it never seems enough. 

I'm trying with all my might to embrace this feeling of bliss and not to let my fears of losing it spoil living in the present. 

So how are you my darling readers? How was your weekend? 

Stay strong, surf well 
Love

Radiate.

I saw this dude yesterday and when I say 'dude' I mean Jack Johnson (naturally). For three hours you could practically feel the love in the room, despite being in a prestigious symphony hall people got up and danced, we laughed and sang along to our favorite songs like we were in a friend's lounge. 

I've never been to a gig before and seen Marine Conservation Society and the Soil Association stands, in fact 100% of the tour profits are going to charity. 
Jack Johnson is that awesome. 

For me his songs go beyond just being music I like, it was listening to his album that stopped me from doing something very stupid. Its hard to talk about because its a period of my life I'd like to forget but I think its important to speak my truth so here it is. Jack Johnson saved my life, through listening to his music it made my mind focus on something other than feeling sad. Hearing the ocean in the background it inspired me to try surfing and the rest they say is history...

It was Bob Marley who originally said 'when music hits you feel no pain,' and the words have never been truer. Jack Johnson's music radiates happiness, he helps you live through your heart and above all to go surfing. 

Last night in a mood of utter mellowness I started to get excited about the possibility of living by the ocean, of surfing, being with my wonderful friends and finding love. Finding the kind of love that means I can slow dance to Jack Johnson's songs for no other reason than because we can't help ourselves. 

And in exactly 1 hours time I'll be going to Croyde Bay, Devon to go surfing with the Land Locked Surfers Club...

BEST WEEKEND EVER! 

Until next time, stay strong and surf well...

Precipice.

It is precisely 9 days until the next trip with the Land Locked Surfers Club.Stoked doesn't even begin to explain how excited I am about the prospect of Croyde Bay, the caravan and people who make the world feel wonderful!

I sometimes wonder if I did indeed achieve the dream of living by the ocean, whether my sense of awe would dull with familiarity? Every time I embark on a trip out of the city, my gratefulness builds with every mile we draw closer to the coast. 

And the moment just before I wade into the ocean to being a new surf session, I force myself to stop and exhale. I make myself hold onto that feeling of wonderment before allowing myself the pleasure of surfing until I'm bone weary and goofy happy. 

There is something to be said about delayed gratification, of having the patience and trusting enough that the universe will unfold as it should. For me this is never more apt than when talking about surfing. I don't have the luxury of several days a week, or even a weekend to go, for me surfing is at best big monthly trips away, or a random day in the week (depending on whether my coastal friend will have me)! 

Does this make me any less of a surfer? 

I guess the jury is out on that one but I certainly feel like I'm a surfer. The dull ache I have every time I leave the coast is a yearning that I've learnt to manage. It makes me work that little bit harder at my job, because I imagine my wages paying for train fare or accommodation  When I become disillusioned or sad I conjure images of myself bobbing on my board and suddenly life seems that little bit better. 

I am always very honest with you dear reader and sometimes I worry that I am too 'out there' as you have read all shades of mood. I'm not however a 2D plastic character, I emote and I think by exploring my vulnerabilities I connect and help other people identify. I hope that impressions of me paint a person who is not afraid to embrace her fears and by doing so makes herself stronger because of it. 

Surfing really did save my life and I believe that this sense of awe can be extended out to vulnerable youth in my own community. As much as I want to escape to the country, I know my city needs me. 

Yesterday I made contact with a refugee youth group who are ecstatic at my idea to take young people to the ocean to learn how to surf. Now the real work starts, the fundraising, the trying to get all the important details to come together in order to make my vision happen. 

I am on a precipice in many senses and I am scared, happy, exhilarated  inspired and ready. Boy am I ready! 

Until next time, 

Stay strong and surf well. 

Love Sophia 

Now.

I appear to have misplaced my mp3 player which is not wholly a bad thing. 
I put the buds of my earphones in and I'm shielded from the world, walking among the briefcases and mobiles, I am my own isolated little ecosystem. 

I write this post in my garden before I go to work, my stomach is warmed by porridge and chamomile and I have the accompaniment of sunshine and blackbirds. In the wake of my missing mp3 player my day has become about acknowledging my present. My walk to work is a reflection on my immediate surroundings and gives me space to think. 

In the stagnant time where I'm, waiting for a train to arrive I'm delving into my bag to retrieve a book or ring a friend who I've not spoken to in a while. I miss the comforting tones of my music, Jack Johnson, Bob Marley, all the names that feel like comrades, but without it I feel so much more in the moment. 

I'm very much having to live day by day, sometimes I wake up and I feel a small curl of hope expand within me, like there is infinite opportunity and its is palpable. Other days I arise with a lump in my throat, without explanation and have to swallow back the tears.  I know I'm not quite all right but dam it I'm getting there. 

The help of friends and the relentless listening from family is helping my unfurl out of the knot I got myself in, of wanting to be perfect and strong for everyone but myself. Naturally writing this blog helps infinitely, I find my balance again.

I want to tell you a story. 

On a rare weekend when Antonio and I were both off together we decided to explore our home city of Birmingham. Along the canals of Brindley Place we came across an old man selling rag rugs from his narrow boat. A simple question of me asking him if I could take a photo lead to a half hour conversation where he told me all about his life afloat. He showed me the intricate designs of making rag rugs and the method in which he did it. I plucked up the courage to admit I wanted to live on a narrow boat and he happily answered all my questions. It was such a small thread in the tapestry of a day but I derived so much solace from it. 

The encounter led me to search for narrow boats for sale and I came across a beautiful 38ft boat lovingly restored by a grandmother. Something amazing has happened, somehow over the medium of email me and this lady have built up real rapport, a common hope for both of us to accomplish our dreams. She is a live aboard hoping to upscale and I'm a landlocked surfer hoping to create my own water adventure in the means available to me. 
Tomorrow I'm going to view the boat and see if it really is the one for me. 

And so I linger in that space between waiting to make a decision and making a decision. 
If I like this boat do I take the risk and buy it? Will I cope living on a boat? How do I feel about inheriting the debt of a loan to afford it? Does it suit my lifestyle? 

My head is a broth of questions and presently I feel numb to make any kind of concrete decision. 

What I do repeatedly imagine is being sat on my narrow boat drinking a cup of tea, inhaling the air around me and looking out for the wildlife of the canal side. 

What do you think? Your words of advice are greatly appreciated do I take the risk and invest in a boat or do I stay poised ready in the moment for something else.... 

A week in pictures...

Jasmine tea at the Kinaree Thai Restaurant, Birmingham. 

 

Edgbaston Reservoir - beauty in the city. 

Above & Below Scenes from Birmingham! 

Rag rugs and narrow boat apparel. 

3am musings. 

Date night at our beloved Cafe Soya.

You must need to be slightly crazy to date me! 

A thoughtful gift from my man fellow. 

And so it begins....

My heart. 

      

The Land Locked Surfers Club.

I came back to Birmingham kicking and screaming. 

During University I had spent three wonderful years playing in the English Lake District, a land of mountains and wilderness. So as you can imagine, returning to the urban sprawl which was Birmingham city was like hauling a fish onto dry land, I felt so out of depth, so alien in a place which used to be home. 

For a long time all I thought about was escaping, I even managed it a few times retreating to Africa to 'find myself.' The funny thing is I always returned to Birmingham because home is not a place its a feeling, its a sense of being. I don't think it was until I met my ex that I truly started to fall in love with Birmingham, as an artist he had an insight to the city that I didn't, there were so many events and like minded people thriving there I just wasn't looking hard enough. 

I work in Handsworth which is a borough of Birmingham and a pretty dangerous one at that. If you like your reggae you may have heard of an album called 'Handsworth Revolution' by the band Steel Pulse, which is all about the riots there back in the 80's. Nowadays its a melting pot of multiculturalism and I adore the place for it. Handsworth is where I worked with the wonderful refugee youth who taught me about the world, I had amazing Rwandan colleagues that were tireless in their efforts to help others and even now when I see them down the Soho Road we run at each other full pelt to embrace. Nowadays I work in a residential home which is so full of love and fun. The staff are English, Jamaican, Gambian, Asian, Malawian, Ugandan - all nationalities and its wonderful. I mean I think its a perfect example of people being united for a common cause and its reminding me that Birmingham is the setting where I've met these wonderful people. 

When I found surfing there was a renewed sense of frustration for living in the most land locked city possible. Travelling miles in any direction in order to reach water certainly inhibits any progress in surf ability! This has been one of the qualms I've found hardest to overcome but I believe I have. If I didn't live in the city I wouldn't have started 'The Land Locked Surfers Club.'

I'm pinching myself as I write this but through the use of social media (the surf girl mag community page, on facebook to be precise) me and my intrepid surfer friend Jemima have managed to reach out and find surfers who are in exactly the same position. Tentative correspondence has led to an organised trip with eight people and counting, who are both friends, acquaintances and strangers. We'll be heading to Saltburn for a cheeky surf sesh and I have the feeling there'll be many more road trips in the future. I have such a gooood feeling about this venture, we're onto something, The Land Locked Surfers Club is I think the start of something wonderful... 

Deep down I know I take my heart in my footstep and will eventually leave Birmingham. Since my break up I've weirdly thought a lot about children, probably because I'm thinking this might not be on the cards for me (maybe I should worry about getting a dog as opposed to children. I'm 24 what am I seriously worrying about)?! I hate to admit it because it exposes how soppy I am, but I dream of bringing kids up by the beach somewhere. I want them bare foot and sun kissed, happy with being outdoors, I want to give them the opportunity to surf and run unburdened. There'll be love too, gawd I'll love 'em! Above all I want my sons/daughters to have a strong mom, a woman they can really look up to whose followed her dreams and encourages that in her kids. They'll also know about Birmingham...

Birmingham I love you and I hate you but you'll always be a part of me! 



Stay Strong, Surf Well 

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