words & art by shé

bookshelf

Tag: essay

  • Listen Learn Love

    Dolphins again, where I’d just been swimming! So graceful and quiet, arcing through the glassy ocean. Swam distance for the third time this week, each stroke a delight. Today the sun is bright, creating rainbows on the coral heads, one shaped like a heart. Rays stream down to the ocean floor, the reverse of those…

  • My Left Foot

    I once gave myself permission to say anything to anybody at anytime. It has not been rescinded. I also recently granted myself permission to screw up, even big time. As everyone does. My injured foot smashed into the staircase this week and tore open the wound on the sole. To distract myself from the pain,…

  • Branded

    I’ve got it bad. I took a Sharpie to the pale blue hoodie and wrote Habibi’s name on the back, adding silver spritzes to the i’s. Retrieved the freshly washed cotton dresses — one grey, one black — and did it again, adding a red heart to the grey one. Some folks doodle their first…

  • La Bomba

    Para bailar la bomba, se necesita una poca de gracia. To dance the diesel engine water pump dance, you need a smidgen of grace. Because the mechanic everyone recommends does not respond to text, phone, email, or WhatsApp. But you have marina angels on your side, and hard-won patience. You finally garner an appointment, to…

  • Gratitude

    The bottom of my foot was sliced open Sunday. Badly. It’s healing nicely, but I’m wary of putting any pressure on it. So today, finally, I asked for help. My mother taught me not to, she was stoic. I am too, but I need water, a shower, bananas, and garbage disposal.  Organizing myself to row…

  • The Journey

    Habibi came with a mug that encourages me to enjoy the journey.  I’m not always able to do this. Some days, say, when the engine is leaking saltwater and the cockroaches are jauntily taking over the boat, I say to that cup, Fuck you! Other days, say, when there’s a rainbow or I’ve just met a…

  • Friend or Food?

    The more I snorkel, the fewer fish I eat. Yes, I know, fish eat fish. But after meeting an octopus, I was distressed to see her on the menu of a local café. Such grace and beauty, fried on a plate? No way, man.  I am not a fan of ‘catch and release’ either. If…

  • Poetry Prompter

    An assortment of job titles over the years: mussel farmer, ghostwriter, roving flower seller, guerrilla-art-instigator, body double, phone book deliverer, pâté promoter, attendance goddess, canine physical therapist, living sculpture, Ferrari driver, Instant Poetry Booth operator, Literary Lounge host, neighborhood association president.  But my favorite title by far is Poetry Prompter. Hired by the Washington State…

  • Cleaning

    There’s a big difference between cleaning an abode you own versus one you rent. I was cranky and disgusted. A cockroach had leaped out of the tostada bag onto my lap. My bare lap. Then scurried onto the towel I was sitting on, a pretty blue one with fish. I did not want squashed cucaracha on my…

  • Sounds

    Dolphins in my swimmin’ hole! Well, theirs, yeah? The whole ocean.  I hear them before I see them, breathing. Hoosh hoosh. Standing on a small hill overlooking the calm Sea, I turn toward the sound. Hoosh hoosh hoosh. A pod! Such joy. They swim south around the point, out of sight. Sunrise. More excellent sounds: “Alliterative tour de force.”…