A bright yellow fish I’d never seen before accompanied my morning swim today. Three inches long and roundish, it may have been attracted by my neon marigold swimsuit. This singular pisces darted around me the entire mile (with my other marine friends), and I was sad to exit the Sea and leave it behind. I know how it is to search for your tribe.
Flummoxed and frustrated, I have followed many a false lead. For example, sailors and swimmers and surfers—we all love water, right? Ye-e-es, but that may not be enough. I recently sprinted after a swimmer (rarely seen in Peñasco), eager to make friends, only to be rebuffed after slogging ashore after her. Interest in soccer and drinking runs high at the boatyard, but not so much in literature or art. And local surfers occasionally ridicule me (a very pale guy on Kaua’i hilariously said, “Haole go home!”).
However, I persevere. The more often I can stay true to my Self, the more often I can connect authentically. The damage inflicted by haters heals as I focus on what brings me bliss. Which hasn’t changed much since elementary school: water, nature, art, books. And that’s plenty.
—Dance First …ask questions later
words & art by shé 
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