words & art by shé

bookshelf

Tag: Pacific

  • 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 It has not been rescinded.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…

  • 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…