“Indoek has taken many forms over the years; it’s been a creative & surf culture blog, a purveyor of weekly mixtapes, maker of random product collaborations, photo and video content creators, a book author, publisher, magazine maker, art show curator and host, a place to celebrate our friends and peers...and it’s been a constant work-in-progress. That said, it has always been a home for the personal / passion projects of my design studio, ITAL/C (italic-studio.com).”
-Matt Titone, Indoek Co-Founder on his ever evolving surf-centric blog.
My introduction to Indoek came unexpectedly during an Insta-scroll. I saw this remarkable 16 ½'' by 11'' publication with the words St. Augustine prominently printed on its cover.
“What is this?” I thought to myself.
My enthusiasm blinded me to clear instructions on how to order the 92-page magazine, complete with a sheet of vinyl stickers paying homage to a host of old city things. So into the comments I slid, naively asking where to get one. I’m glad things went this way. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have known that a short drive to Yield Design Co. would score me a hard copy. Entering the vast humming warehouse during a sun shower was more whimsical than waiting for the city guide to appear at my doorstep unattended and longing for my return from work.
I didn’t waste any time before soaking up the pages’ crisp coquina and gator photography, long form pieces contributed by familiar names, and it’s fresh scent of white felt paper. This collective curated by locals is the kind of meta-nostalgia for which my generation longs. It’s not lost on me that hours spent scrolling through digital photo feeds is slowly, deliciously draining me of life. I’m soothed by a tactile, rough-textured medium that transports me to the pre-Internet age Matt references in the mag’s opening piece, Fountain of Youth. The large scale photography is beautifully immersive to the point that I sometimes feel like I’m being tossed about by the Atlantic’s undertow while studying certain blue pages.
There was a bit of overlap in Matt’s “St. A” story and mine in that we both moved here without knowing much about the 904 aside from its being home to Flagler College. We were more or less the same age when first calling this quaint coastal community home.
This issue is such an authentic peek through the lenses of people who have been captivated and charmed by a place that became a turning point or unexpected adventure.
Indoek No. 2 isn’t afraid to look intently at uncomfortable truths (i.e. A Lien on Lincolnville), lest we should overlook a trend that threatens to displace a community integral to St. Augustine’s identity.
I feel the need to mention that I’ve only surfed about five times. But this surf-centric magazine doesn’t alienate anyone. I remember the day in 2009 when my family and I took a surf clinic in Crescent Beach. The three of us were naturals, especially my little brother. It didn’t take much for us to grasp the thrill of catching a well timed wave - the thrill that keeps die-hards chasing the spiritual experiences that happen in the vastest oceans. I’ve struggled to make time for regular surfing. Something tells me I’d take pride in being an aquatic anomaly...the only brown fish out of water as far as the eye can see. To be sure, during one Huguenot surf session with my friend Jonathan in 2011, there was a black man shredding on modest waves - his long dreads trailing behind him like a comet’s tail. I promise you that even from where I stood, it was like seeing a unicorn of sorts traversing the waves.
I’ll close with the vinyl sticker sheet's nostalgia. The insert made me feel the way I did at 8 years old...tearing through a box of cereal for a plastic action figure and playing with it while my other free hand scooped up breakfast. Two stickers found a home on my sky blue Hydro Flask. A few others will go under my skateboard. The end of the matter is this: Thank you Indoek, for doing something that makes me feel like a younger version of myself. “Being grown up isn’t half as fun as growing up.”