Anyway, Micah Abrams has checked out the show and told me it is amazing, so either get to the Annenberg Space for Photography (2000 Avenue of the Stars, #10, LA) early on the 11th of February and tell someone at the door how important you are. Or just go check out the print show sometime before March 7th.

Here is the LINK for info.

And here are a couple of frames from my slide show.

Mark Abma at Chatter Creek Lodge, Canadaaaa.

Simon Dumont in Trysil, Norway and at Riley Poor's apartment in Long Beach, CA.

Laurent-Nicolas Paquin in Houghton, Michigan.

I think this guy's name is Shaun White. He's pretty good at X Games.

Simon Dumont at Mammoth Mountain, California.

You'd think with my pathetic aspirations as a surfer that these would be epic times for me. But last time, aside from a great day with some of the most special So Cal ladies I know, there was very little surfing--no waves until our departure day being a summer trip and waiting for the random South swell. My thoughts this time were of bigger and better things--things being waves, obvi. But sadly, during the Dew Tour in Breckenridge, I was cruising down Four O'Clock run, a boring cruiser that takes you right into downtown Breck, I caught an edge while, in my mind at least, looking like a bad-ass--jacket open, sunglasses on, sweet set-up and camera pack on my back--straight lining through the holiday crowds. The scorpion bit me and I was just happy to have avoided landing on my face. Then on Christmas eve one of my great friends, not knowing that I was nursing a sore breast region, jumped on me as I rode a sled through the classic Carter Park sled hill. I heard, and felt, my rib crack again, or at least completely. So this time, waking up to overhead waves on my first morning in Encinitas, all I could do was watch and suck down Advil. Needless to say, I spent a lot of time reading, drinking coffee and walking around.

Here are a few pictures from my wanders, in the absence of stories of glory on the waves. Happy New Year to you all. And please think of our friends and others who aren't able to aimlessly walk the beautiful streets these days--most recently Kevin Pearce, but each and every joining me as I soak up this beautiful world.

All the best in 2010. -Nate.

San Diego airport, soaking up good light.

Outside our house.

Palm tree shot number 4 of 50.

Christmas garage.

Moonlight State Beach.

Bank light.

Emo?

Tree.

Sunset emergency.

Birds over Pacific.

Todd Walnuts is the the king of style.

But Andreas Håtveit is The King of Style (tm)

Wait B-Dog is supposed to be the king of style...

Yep, style.

Jacob has style, happy style then focused style.

Simon has style.

All the way to Sweden to be fitted for a suit...

The new guy, Timmy McChesney, is learning style.

Jacob and Simon, nighttime style.

Even in the rain Swedes have great style and ride their bikes everywhere.

Craig.

Jake.

Michael.

Halfway.

Back.

We had a super fun time, got the shots, and blogged it up. Nate plus Eight is over now, and the mani's and pedis will be destroyed, my bikini wax will become stubble, and I'll stop talking about the most recent issue of Cosmo. But I assure you the bumping sounds of Lady Gaga and Britney will haunt my dreams for months to come.

Anyway, I'll let you know when the issue comes out or "drops", by the parlance of our hood brethren. Bless.

Kaya and I did BFs into the foam pit in the Windell's barn.

GBaby jumped and Tweeted at the same time.

Dania is a yogi.

Keri shows me where the sun is going to set.

The Burke is back and bad.

Grete did the rock gap, but she didn't Tweet in the air.