essays by shé

bookshelf

Tag: painting

  • Move It

    Moving is traumatic. So why have I been traveling for 12 solid years? Granted, I stopped here and there for six to 12 months, but no place has felt like Home. It may surprise you to learn that I am a nester, given my proclivity for buying mobile abodes: first a tiny house on wheels,…

  • Underwater Realm

    Not only is gravity suspended under water, time seems to be as well. Hoi polloi noises are muffled, and I float through flocks of small fish. Little forests of seaweed waft in the longshore current, and mosaic’d swimmers dart suddenly away when they realize they’ve been spotted. Stingrays leave round depressions in the seabed, and…

  • Back Off : Peace

    “I’m not going to let you weasel out of it,” said my date, grabbing my arm and planting a sloppy kiss on my cheek. My cheek, because I quickly turned my mouth away from the incoming. Since when is kissing mandatory? Since when is kissing NOT consensual? Since when does anyone have a right to…

  • Dogged

    A few weeks ago, on the way to the grocery store along the train tracks, I was beset by a pack of dogs. Nearby humans were completely uninterested in my safety. I whirled in circles shouting “NO!” palms out, but still one darted in and nipped my calf, twice. Did not break the skin, but…

  • Purging

    Books, people, food. On one end of the spectrum is nourishment, encouragement, fortification, body-building vitamins and minerals. Energy. On the other end is venom. Poison. Toxins. Pollution. In between, closer to the venomous end, are empty calories with no nutritional value. Enervators. Why are we attracted to poisonous people? Well, we may be related to…

  • Let it Be

    The search for an art studio is over. I am able to spread out under my catamaran neighbor, S/V Let it Be. “Poetic,” said the boatyard owner, saying of course I can use the space. His sister is an experimental artist, so he was completely unsurprised by my need to paint. Let It Be’s humans…

  • Support

    “Andale, Reina,” says the boatyard guard, opening the gate. It’s been awhile since I’ve been called Queen. It’s late and hot, and Habibi trembles in the wind. Scary. So I climbed off the boat and descended the ladder to terra firma. Because I can. In the middle of the Sea, I couldn’t, or wouldn’t. I…

  • On the Hard

    Seven days on the hard so far, hauled out of water and propped up on sticks. Well, strong metal supports that look like sticks compared to 10-ton Habibi. Is she really going to remain upright on land? The Bod is extremely wary, tiptoeing around deck, and the Mind is surprised every single day that passes…

  • Letting in the Wind

    “Our feelings are our most genuine paths to knowledge.” —Audre Lorde. Change can be difficult. And, possible. Emotions are clues, perseverance necessary. Like so many, I struggle with inherited behaviors. In the middle of the night, after hours of hot air currents gusting through the cabin, I closed the hatches. The sound of whistling wind…

  • Hermosa

    This is the second Hermosa Beach for me, the first in California in 2014, about 400 miles away from where I now am in Sonora, México. Hermosa means beautiful in Spanish, and it’s true. This playa la hermosa features a reef, and yesterday, while someone was stealing my shoes and shades, I saw a small…