Meeting Peter Wise, one might think that he himself is a surfer; his decidedly beachy sensibility is a hallmark of the culture. But his interest surpasses the tangible bounds of the sport, moving beyond the realm of the physical and approaching the Pythagorean, a pure world of line and shape. “Number is the ruler of forms, and ideas the cause of gods and demons,” the philosopher said, but the two here are inseparable. Wise’s brainchildren, bronzed and totemic, are golems of geometry and avatars of Apollo both. His divine and implacable soldiers march daily against Eris, mother of discord, taming she who troubles the calm of the ocean, the near infinite flatness of horizon.