words & art by shé

bookshelf

Tag: boundaries

  • Nourishment

    The frigate bird picks up garbage, hoping it is food. It never is, despite repeated attempts. I do this too, tempted by the supposed soft life of washing machines, easy food access, running water, and electricity. I haven’t left the marina since my aborted attempt more than a month ago. (See “Underpowered.”) I have a…

  • An Open Letter to Patronizers

    Help me, or don’t help me, but don’t assume you know better than I how to run my life. The decisions are not yours to make. They are mine. The mistakes are mine, the lessons are mine. I welcome your solicited advice and expertise. But Habibi is my boat. You are not allowed to board without my…

  • 2Loved2BUgly

    So, I shaved my head. I look like Steve McQueen. Or a monk. Not a curl in sight. It’s very soft, though, and quite comforting to pet. But Scorn visited quickly. “You are too ugly to be loved,” she said. Fortunately my inner Pollyanna piped up. “No, babe. You are too loved to be ugly,” which made…

  • Love is Love

    I was sixty. He was thirty-two. I liked his kindness and swagger, but at first I didn’t even recognize him from day to day. It took me months to figure out that he was interested in a non-platonic relationship. But then… He was doing something in the bow of his boat, leaning over away from…

  • Alarms

    Alarm cannot be hushed. So said Habibi’s smoke detector when I burned breakfast, along with Fire. I push the center button, but Alarm cannot be hushed. Pot in the cockpit, hatches open, fans on… finally, the alarm shuts off. I did this in the tiny house a few times too, before I disabled the alarm. Small spaces fill with smoke…

  • Underpowered

    “I need help!” I yell in Spanish, and throw a line to Enrique on the fuel dock. But Habibi’s motor craps out and we drift away toward the concrete sea wall. Men line the top of it, to help push her away from what I believe is a certain crash. I’d been trying to leave…

  • Anniversary

    Push down to go up – that’s what dancers do, push down through the feet in order to rise, turn, and jump. Push down to go up. I did this on my surfboard recently, pushed down into the board while catching a wave, and it worked a treat. Balanced, baby! Riding easily! This morning I…

  • Marina Life

    I’ve given up trying to leave Mazatlán for the nonce. Maybe I’ll head south again after hurricane season. I have settled into a writing rhythm, and am working on the memoir. I’ve rigged an uber-long extension cord to the dock post in order to recharge the devices and run the electric kettle. Now to find…

  • Pity Kiss

    He snaked his arm through my open 4Runner window, snagged my shoulder to pull me closer, and kissed me on the cheek. I was too surprised to resist. I had pulled over when I saw him to find out why he suddenly stopped texting in the middle of negotiating a visit to Habibi with his…

  • Native

    “You’re not native,” states the woman ahead of me in the long slow grocery line. She’d asked me where I was from, and, as usual, I said, “I live here.” We’re on Kaua’i, so she probably means Native Hawaiian. I nod my fair head yes, I am native, and she stares at my blue eyes.…