words & art by shé

bookshelf

Tag: love

  • BeLoved

    Quizá puedo ir a conocer Habibi cuando obscurezca, wrote a friend. Maybe I can get to know the Beloved when it’s dark. At first I didn’t understand. And then I realized that he really is an angel, telling me the truth of life, whether he knows it or not.  I came to know the Beloved when my life was…

  • Olas

    “Surfer dude!” said a woman as I walked back from a session, board on head. I smiled. Mazatlán has waves. Olas, in Spanish. Which sounds like Hola. Which means hello. Hello, waves! It’s been a while. “Te quiero,” I texted recently. I love you. Radio silence ensued, yet I’m glad I sent the message. I…

  • Night Sailing

    I did not know I would love sailing at night. No fear, just endless sea and stars. The sound of Habibi’s hull parting the ocean into bioluminescent waves. Wind filling the sails. Learning the navigation system. Keeping watch. Singing. Resting in the cockpit, swaddled in blankets, supremely content. I have always loved the peace and…

  • Capitana

    “¿Capitana?” asks Guillermina, the manager of Marina Mazatlán. Are you the Captain? “Sí,” I reply, yes, and she smiles widely. A man comes in the office while I am signing the docking contract. “She is the Captain,” she brags, and he gives me a thumbs-up. Role model! Because I am doing what I am supposed…

  • Playlist

    I’d been hearing the opening riff to “Hello I Love You” in my head for days, so I finally latched onto a friend’s Starlink and YouTubed it. Followed by “Sledgehammer,” of course, and “Come Out and Play.” Danced my ass off in the cockpit. To top it off, I played “Ya Habibi” and floated around…

  • Surfing Concrete

    I did not know that bringing the RipStik on board Habibi would make me so happy. Like the wetsuit, it’s a reminder of surfing, of fun. You can’t carry groceries on a waveboard. Its only purpose is happiness, flow.  A small skateboard with only two oscillating wheels, riding it replicates surfing. The same muscles engage,…

  • Perfectly Imperfect

    “I am not perfect,” wrote a friend of mine, and I responded immediately with, “You are perfect. Perfectly imperfect, just like me.” By which I mean, to hell with perfectionism. It gets in the way of Happiness, every single time. I know, because I’ve been in the grip of it for decades. Last Sunday I decided to hoist the…

  • 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…

  • Lessons

    Put the dinghy together before throwing it overboard. (So that’s what ‘nested pram’ means! Three hours, use of the hoist, and many cuts and bruises later…) Swivel the grill inside the stern pulpit (the back of the boat) before leaving the dock so it doesn’t catch on your neighbor’s lifelines (horizontal cables running the length of the boat). (But…

  • Essay #1: accent on E

    Today marks the 48th anniversary of my birth. To celebrate these years on the planet, I plan to post 48 personal essays here, one every Monday. Why? A few years ago, my best friend died. Again. The first time it happened, I was 4 and he was my brother John. The second time, I was…