BellaMar

“I am myself. I am singular.” —Faerie queen in Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands by Heather Fawcett

30 months in and I’m still surprised that I live on a boat. High and dry at the moment, but still in a sea-going vessel. “Ridiculous!” I laugh. Life is a twisty-turny adventure, that’s for sure.

Habibi was recently moved a hundred yards away from the seawall. We are in a much quieter spot, with a palm tree on the port side, and an abandoned catamaran on the starboard. We are in a corner, so no one walks by, no one bangs on the hull, no one comments on my laundry hanging from the life lines. So fine to be away from the edge, as well as boatyard drama. (Yes, dude, I am using that hose. Leave it alone. No, you may not amplify your guitar in the metal paint shed next to me in retaliation.) Sometimes this place reminds me of high school: stoners, cliques, preening, power plays, tantrums, gossip. On the plus side: genuinely helpful folks. Two of the yard guys made sure Habibi was level before removing the giant skateboard (a low-to-the-ground transport for boats), and assisted in rigging her for power and water. Carlos even put a piece of plywood at the bottom of my metal staircase for ease of traversing. Livin’ large now.

Here’s an excerpt from a novel-in-progress, BellaMar:

To get to BellaMar, you need a witch. Not just any witch, no. A water witch. They are specially trained by other water witches, and they are rare. It takes a long time to become a water witch, and then it takes a longer time to learn how to get to BellaMar. And then it takes a longer time to learn how to take other people with you… The light is strange in BellaMar, sometimes moody and ochre, sometimes clear and celadon. The source is not always the sun, especially deep down. You could swear it comes from rocks, and wondrous waterfowl with tail lights. It also emanates from caves and crannies.

Just published, Shoulds are for Saints: the true life adventures of Suzy Le Speed

—along with Dance First …ask questions later: poems and paintings