After five years as a Naval officer, Larry Brown decided to call it quits. A recent convert to Christianity, he then entered Bible school. But his real purpose in life was not revealed until he began to travel to some of the world’s most remote and impoverished countries.

It was the mid 1970s, a great time to be young and healthy, especially if you were one of the top surfers in California and being paid to do what you loved best.

Dropping in on a set wave at Maverick’s or Pipeline is comparable to falling from a ten-story building into a damp sponge. Those who survive to tell the tale find a post-rush enlightenment as their reward.

Since ancient times surfing and art have been entwined in a way that it is often inseparable. From South American cave paintings depicting people riding waves to Rick Griffin's psychotropic Eye am the I, surf art has attempted to portray something that cannot be understood in words-the rush of sliding on a moving mountain of saltwater. To many, surfing itself is considered an art, an individualistic expression done on what someone once called a “liquid stage.”

People that meet Mark Foreman are always surprised to discover that this backyard philosopher, socially conscious individual, surfer dude is, in fact, a pastor. I’m not sure if this is a compliment to Mark or a dis to pastors in general. Mark reaches beyond the pulpit into the heart of the matter, where most live lives of quiet desperation and still, small voices stir the soul.