Tag: painting
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Swingin’ on a (Gulf)Star
To get to Habibi, you must pass Enchantment, Namaste, Alley Cat, and Go Dog Go! Every single time I return to her — from swimming or grocery shopping or marina business — I grin, relieved she’s still floating, amazed that she’s mine. Yep, it’s dawning on me that, after 42 years of searching, I finally…
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Dusk
A faint path lopes along the top of the isthmus that separates the mooring lagoon from the sea. I didn’t notice it for a month, and trudged the rougher scree that tried to throw me off balance. Imagine my delight one evening, in the slanting rays, to find an easier way. And it was always…
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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…
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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…
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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…
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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…
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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…
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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…
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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…
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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…
words & art by shé 