essays by shé

listening to love

  • House of the Ray

    I saw the face of god and it’s a ray. Investigating a new snorkel spot, movement flashes in the corner of my eye. Turning to my right, I’m startled by a ray and sea turtle close by. Large, both of them. I freeze. The ray glides in front of me, swoops around and down and…

  • End/Begin

    Quit my job today. Eleven years I managed a private foundation that supported teaching artists and organizations who specialize in spreading joy. The name (Jubilation Foundation), the mission (benefiting children via music and movement), and almost complete autonomy were the reasons I stayed so long. However, now it’s time to focus on my own jubilation…

  • Voguing Snowgal

    So I was painting the other day, and did a series. Seems to be an Xmas theme with me. In 2019 I filled eight canvases with one giant heart each, some with polka dots, some blue-green, some orange-red: love expressed. I gave them to folks I treasured the most. This year I use ivory black…

  • The Noisy Boys of Kilauea

    When I looked at the place, the landlady said one guy lived next door. A lie. Ten to fifteen guys live next door, though usually only during the week. Five days. Hired to work on a resort, they are commercial landscapers. Some come from Oahu, some from Maui, and recently a few from California. They…

  • Trespassing

    “Can I help you?” the man stands near the freshly parked pick-up I’ve just walked by. A woman watches from the house, unsmiling. I stop and turn, the exit a stone’s throw away. “I don’t think so.” “Private property,” he says, not advancing. “I thought these were vacation rentals.” Indeed there are no Private Property…

  • Ganesh

    Did you know that elephants can swim? Even float! Their trunks are built-in snorkels. I have not seen this with my own eyes, but saw a photo in one of Dr. Sylvia Earle’s books about the ocean: the image stuck. How many things seem impossible, but aren’t? Like surfing, or writing a book, or pirouettes.…

  • Filling

    My dentist looks like a Bollywood star. Again. The first time this happened, I was living in Hermosa Beach, and Dr. Bhalla was her name. Not only beautiful, she was kind, sensitive, and listened well. Dr. Ameer, on Kaua’i, is the same, though a different gender. They both have gentle senses of humor. When I…

  • Villainess

    The relatives continue to bash me, sending regular give-me-your-inheritance communiqués. But my reactions are changing: Pain and Sorrow are taking a back seat to Anger and Humor. Anger says, Block the mo-fos! So I converse with Hope, point out that it’s been ceaseless for six months, mention previous egregious behavior, and she finally concedes. Humor…

  • Straight to the Ocean

    I was conceived in the Bahamas, on my parents’ honeymoon. Nine months later, I emerged in Arizona, a desert fish. Despite my surroundings, I managed — always — to find water to splash in, swim in, and play in. Waterbaby, they called me. My first ocean was the Pacific, off San Francisco. I was four,…

  • Muertos

    They are holding hands, leaning back and spinning. Their twirling (or maybe their laughter?) generates light. Around and round, faster and faster, gazing at each other, eyes on the prize: mother and son. There is only Love. It was time: five months after she left her body. She began the process on Johnny’s birthday, May…