Driftwood Radio
Tune an old radio on the porch of a beach house and piece together one summer from the stations that come through the static.
The shore stays open after dark
Stories, essays, films and small games from an imagined coast where people keep odd hours, make things for the pleasure of it, and are never in a hurry.
Everything here downloads or plays for free. Take a story offline, close the laptop, and read it somewhere with a window.
study for a cover · the moon before the swim
They keep odd hours and good bread.
A ceramicist who surfs before the kiln has cooled. A retired cartographer who teaches free-diving on Thursdays and refuses to explain why. Two sisters running a listening bar out of a boathouse, eleven records deep, no menu.
Nobody here is on holiday. They work, often hard, but the work is the reward, and the evening belongs to the water. They are curious about their bodies and generous with their time. They are strange in ways that make a room better.
Sea Salt and Caramel is that coast, written down. It borrows from Hayama and the Shonan shore, from the north side of Kauaʻi, from the painted streets above Byron Bay, and belongs to none of them. It exists so that a tired person on a late train has somewhere to go for twenty minutes.
Six things to take offline
Stories and essays download as PDFs, set for reading in bed or on a train. Films and games open here.
- Read · PDF ↓
The night baker of Isshiki
A bakery that opens at two in the morning, for fishermen and insomniacs.
- Download PDF ↓
On doing things slowly and well
Against efficiency, in favour of the second coat of varnish.
- Watch →
Low tide, 05:10
A potter opens the kiln before the surf.
- Play →
Driftwood Radio
Tune an old radio and rebuild a summer from the static.
- Download PDF ↓
Lanterns for the octopus fishermen
Two sisters, one boathouse, a listening bar with no menu.
- Download PDF ↓
The case for the long lunch
What a three-hour meal does to a working week.
Filmed on the long way home
Short films without narration. Tide, kitchens, workshops, night swims.
Small games for the last hour of the day
Nothing to win. No timers, no scores, no notifications. Games you can put down mid-sentence.
Tide Pool Solitaire
A patience game dealt from shells. Best played with the sound on and the lights low.
Windows left open on the coast
Small scenes that keep the coast’s time. The tide comes and goes, the rain starts and stops. Leave one open in a corner of the screen.
One letter a month, at low tide
New stories and essays, the month’s films and games, and one recipe. No announcements.