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Just Keep Swimming

Posted by on 12:15 am in Writing | Comments Off on Just Keep Swimming

Just Keep Swimming

My daughter took a quick breath, a sound like she was gasping, afraid. Then she plunged off the side of the pool and into the water, sinking straight to the bottom. Beside me I heard my mother gasp and hold her breath until she saw her granddaughter’s face come swimming back up out of the turquoise water, breaking the ripples with a determined splash, her pink goggles half filled with water, her mouth open like a fish, breathing in another quick breath before pushing off the edge of the pool and swimming straight into my mother’s...

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Mochi and pumpkin pie

Posted by on 12:46 am in Writing | Comments Off on Mochi and pumpkin pie

Mochi and pumpkin pie

Is sorrow transmissible by air? Can it float across the boundaries of property and walls, settling like a fine dust in my home? It would explain the weight I have felt all morning, moving slowly from laundry to washing dishes. Yesterday, I kept walking to the front door, thinking that someone was knocking, but the sound, like the sorrow, came from next door. It was the sound of car doors slamming, family and friends arriving and leaving as they prepared for the funeral, knocking on the door of a home with one less occupant. Eventually, I...

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On a Threshold

Posted by on 10:20 pm in Writing | Comments Off on On a Threshold

On a Threshold

The sound of Jillian’s little voice yelling “Mommy!” with unabashed joy from across the grassy lawn of her preschool. The sight of her running as fast as she can, straight toward me. Seeing her friends grab and hug her first, hearing her tell me their names and stories. The wet feeling of tears on my shoulder when my arrival would coincide with a skinned elbow, an unkind word, or a misplaced shoe. Hands full of leaves and sticks that were special and had names and stories and were forgotten in minutes after arriving home....

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An island encircled by an ocean which embraces the world

Posted by on 8:12 am in Writing | Comments Off on An island encircled by an ocean which embraces the world

An island encircled by an ocean which embraces the world

My home does not belong to me. It first belonged to the ocean, sleeping deep in the fathoms before it was woken by the movement of tectonic plates and the lovemaking of Wakea and Papahanaumoku. Up rose the land, bubbling forth over the eons, layer upon layer of lava rising up from the center of the earth, pulled forth by the strength of Maui’s fishhook, until someone in his canoe looked back, and the line snapped. This land became a shore where coral grew and fish and octopus found shelter after being swept a great distance by ocean...

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Trash

Posted by on 2:19 am in Writing | Comments Off on Trash

Trash

I had headed to the beach for a walk, a swim, to soak in sunshine. I had imagined I would find perfect sand and curling waves, a white and turquoise color palette, something to photograph and enjoy. Maybe some sea shells to put in a glass jar on the coffee table. I came looking for solitude, gratitude, and inspiration, and instead I found a broken hairbrush and a pen cap. Then a mustard lid, plastic straws, rubber slippers. A mylar balloon. All around, from the shoreline to the high tide line, an array of broken plastic, scattered in all...

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In Solitude

Posted by on 1:00 am in Writing | Comments Off on In Solitude

In Solitude

5:30am on Valentine’s day, 5,000 feet above sea level on the slopes of Haleakala. We are visiting the island of Maui, named after the demi-god who pulled the islands from the sea and lassoed the sun, and we are staying as guests in the 90-year-old summer estate of a prominent missionary family.  I am awake this early to watch the sunrise, leaving both my husband and child asleep in bed. Pulling on sweatpants over long johns, wool socks over cotton ones, zipping a fleece over a two layers of long sleeves, all of these cold-weather...

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On the edge of rising

Posted by on 7:16 am in Writing | Comments Off on On the edge of rising

On the edge of rising

The first step was getting out of bed, to rise into darkness with sand in my throat. I could feel an illness approaching and the weather report said rain would also arrive soon, both converging to keep me inside and under covers for the rest of the day. I had only a small window of calm — the last hours of nighttime and the first few of the day — which was why I had set the alarm last night, with this plan. So I got up, got dressed, and went outside into the fading starlight. My husband followed; more accustomed to the early...

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Wayfinder Wong Joining Hokule’a For Brazil Trip

Posted by on 8:32 pm in Photography, Writing | Comments Off on Wayfinder Wong Joining Hokule’a For Brazil Trip

Wayfinder Wong Joining Hokule’a For Brazil Trip

Published in Windward Oahu Voice, a Midweek publication, for the week of December 16, 2015 Ask someone close to him to describe Kaleomanuiwa Wong, and you’ll hear words like ‘olu‘olu and ha‘aha‘a (kind, pleasant, and humble). There would also comparisons to PWO (master) navigator, Bruce Blankenfeld, and for good reason: Bruce has mentored Wong since he was a Kaiser High Student (as was Bruce), and in mid-December, Wong will fly to Cape Town, South Africa to join him as a navigator for the Hokule‘a on a journey to Brazil across more than 3,000...

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A Small Death

Posted by on 8:26 am in Writing | Comments Off on A Small Death

A Small Death

“I have some sad news. Salice died last night.” Salice was our fish, a guppy Jill won at the fun fair at a local elementary school last November. She couldn’t decide at the time whether to name her prize “Sally” or “Alice,” so the name “Salice” was born. And Salice had been sitting on the kitchen counter for the past nine months, wiggling with anticipation at meal time, dancing patterns in the water to get our attention every morning. Foster and I weren’t sure how Jill would react to...

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Maunakea

Posted by on 7:41 pm in Writing | Comments Off on Maunakea

Maunakea

“Dehumanization “solves” our wired-in empathy problem because it moves those who suffer out of our group. No tears need to be shed. They are not like us.” http://www.huffingtonpost.com/steven-c-hayes-phd/gay-marriage-racism-and-o_b_7673486.html On Maunakea, politicians and astronomers have labeled the kanaka maoli (Native Hawaiian) resistance as “other,” and so can dismiss any claims they make. Anything that happens is twisted to ensure that “they” are not like “us.” In this...

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