I often get asked if I’m working on another surf film.

‘When’s it going to be finished?’ is usually the next question.

Making a movie all on your own is a long journey, & it gets overwhelming at times. I’ve been overwhelmed by it all a lot lately. And being a dad & a full-time school teacher means my time’s limited, so filmmaking’s a pretty slow old process.

But I’ve begun to gather momentum & energy for the next stage of the journey, & I’m devoting myself to a lot of editing. Although, I’m still discovering the place where I want the next film to go, & still deciding on a title, I feel like the wheels are turning.

Every now & then I thought I’d post framegrabs from my edits up here, to give you a glimpse into the journey. As always, thanks for your interest & support.


++YOWZA++ from Rhythm Livin on Vimeo.

Here's a rad little short my mate Mick Waters put together for Rhythm, featuring NPJ getting his shred on.

Yeah Right!

Yeah Right! "Crail Board" from skatefairy on Vimeo.

My all time favourite section from one of my favourite skate films, 'Yeah Right!' by Girl Skateboards. I never tire of watching this. Supery fun.

The Wide Brown Land For Me

While our fellow countrymen & women are still mopping up after floods & cyclones & grieving for their lost, down here we are experiencing a week long relentless heat wave, hoping for rain & the wind to change.

My Country

The love of field and coppice,
Of green and shaded lanes.
Of ordered woods and gardens
Is running in your veins,
Strong love of grey-blue distance
Brown streams and soft dim skies
I know but cannot share it,
My love is otherwise.

I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror -
The wide brown land for me!

A stark white ring-barked forest
All tragic to the moon,
The sapphire-misted mountains,
The hot gold hush of noon.
Green tangle of the brushes,
Where lithe lianas coil,
And orchids deck the tree-tops
And ferns the warm dark soil.

Core of my heart, my country!
Her pitiless blue sky,
When sick at heart, around us,
We see the cattle die-
But then the grey clouds gather,
And we can bless again
The drumming of an army,
The steady, soaking rain.

Core of my heart, my country!
Land of the Rainbow Gold,
For flood and fire and famine,
She pays us back threefold-
Over the thirsty paddocks,
Watch, after many days,
The filmy veil of greenness
That thickens as we gaze.

An opal-hearted country,
A wilful, lavish land-
All you who have not loved her,
You will not understand-
Though earth holds many splendours,
Wherever I may die,
I know to what brown country
My homing thoughts will fly.

Dorothea Mackellar