words & art by shé

bookshelf

Tag: sola

  • Flowers

    “Is she pretty?” asked Rod Stewart. I’d just delivered a spray of dendrobium orchids to him from a fan across the room. We were in Wall Street, a Hollywood night spot I frequented to sell flowers. I shrugged. Beauty is subjective. He asked me to fetch her, so I walked back to the other side…

  • Godspeed

    “Godspeed,” wrote a friend recently, wishing me well on my journey. Upon reflection, I realized that the speed of god is not my speed. It is the speed at which things actually happen, whether I like it or not. Impatience is a strong suit: she runs me ragged and belittles self-care. Why aren’t you heading south already? Loser! I hate…

  • Solo

    Four foot waves at the narrow mouth of the channel into the marina. The depth sounder seems to be measuring them — oops, five feet — instead of the distance to the ocean floor. Habibi’s draft is six feet and we haven’t run aground, so I’m guessing. I’ve joked that, since she is fiberglass, I’ve…