words & art by shé

bookshelf

Tag: art

  • Heard

    Anxiety is finally taking a back seat. Feels like years that she’s been driving me around. But now I have a home — Habibi of the Sea. And time and space to write. A publisher contacted me recently. She’s interested in Letters to Lulu, the epistolary novella I penned in 2013, the same year I evacuated…

  • Hilary

    My mother did not evacuate New Orleans before Katrina hit and the levees failed. She hunkered down in the first floor bathtub. She had cleared out — unnecessarily, in hindsight — many times before, she explained, so she decided to stay. “River of misery,” she saw afterwards. Followed by “river of joy,” the following Mardi…

  • Breathe

    “When the ball comes fast — breathe.” This I heard in a San Diego park, near tennis courts, and recognized the instructor’s good advice. The balls are coming fast these days in this noisy marina on the Sea of Cortez: contracts to sign, settlement statements to question, stolen credit card numbers to report, a fallen…

  • Come Sail Away

    Sometimes it takes a long time to get back to all right. Been ten years since I exited Olympia and began looking for a home by the sea. Took awhile to realize I could choose a boat instead of a house. Today I wired a 10% deposit on Habibi and contacted a marine surveyor to…

  • Habibi

    Beginning at the Berkeley marina, I drive south for days, seeking out sailboats and surfing when I can: Santa Cruz, Morro Bay, Santa Barbara, Oxnard, Long Beach, Newport, Dana Point, Oceanside, San Diego. Cross the border into México and check out San Felipe, Bahía Tortugas, Santa Rosalia. Spend an afternoon and night at Playa El…

  • Grace

    There are moments of grace and beauty. Blowing bubbles with Antonella was one of them. Let me set the scene: a church group sings nearby of peace and love and liberty; the sun is setting big and orange and low; for the first time in México, the tiny house is unhitched and plugged in; and…

  • Round & Round

    Sometimes I get frustrated with my indirect, repetitive routes. Up and down California, before I can retrieve the tiny house. Roundabout Oregon before deciding not to live there. Across the country to save my mother, who didn’t want to be saved. Up and down Baja wondering what I’m doing with my life. All this traveling…

  • Stung

    Knee deep in the La Jolla Pacific, I feel a gentle slice on top of the second toe on my left foot. So gentle in fact that I’m surprised to see blood. Hunh. Wading out to get a better look, a half inch cut bleeds copiously. Foot above heart to slow the flow, I rest…

  • Napping Near the Military

    Returning to the States to sign documents, I pulled off the highway to rest, engaging four-wheel-drive. The great thing about México is that you can follow a dirt road as the whim strikes. Many times they lead to interesting places. Sometimes not. I was tired and anxious, and found a spot behind some boulders and…

  • Jiggity-Jig

    Home again, home again, tiny house in tow, see how she flies! It’s been almost three and a half years since I inhabited my T@B travel trailer, and boy, did I miss her! So cheerful, so easy-going, so functional and fun. No more leaky tent. No more cramped back seat, feet hanging out the window.…