Category: Living on Purpose
With fistfuls of ocean, I scrubthe soles of my feet— exhausting flakes for the fish food watching the waves lose pieces in a fist fight with the breeze. I got a whole lotta sand to figure things out. The sun will wait for me patiently kissing umbrella cloudstil my blue towel be set near that low wall. Not for the first time do I wonder how long this will last. Harnessing light from … Read More Kaimana
Setting: Cliff-side Northern California, chilly on a Sunday morning at 10 a.m. Cloudy, but not densely so. The Redwood Highway snakes out from the Eel River and tangles with Eureka, ending somewhere along the 101 in Oregon. This highway is not only for cars. A punchy yellow sign declaring “Share the Road” (as in cyclists, please share with the cars) is stapled in every … Read More What It’s Like to Get Hit by a Car
Better to be an amateur. Better to gather knowledge like a drink from the river on a hot day, fistfuls of books and essays on life itself. Better to equip myself with “permission to continue”. I stand near my kitchen window in Oahu, listening to zebra doves on the telephone wires outside cooing to each other in the midmorning breeze. The mountain trade winds … Read More On the Will to Move
Available in paperback and e-book, Articulated Soul is a collection of 50 poems in five categories (Kansas, Austria, Indonesia, New Zealand, and Hawaii). These poems catalogue the many fragrant emotions of living abroad on one’s own, the sites and smells, the insecurities. Supplementing the angst are 25 original collages, expanding the metaphor of influence and creativity. Grateful acknowledgment is made to the editors and … Read More Announcement!
Valerian gardens, gardenias in the rosebushes sunlight twilight and mountain rain makes everything grow like this. Tricolored notebooks rest easy on the table near me and the door opens once more. The door opens. Has been opened. Will be opened.
What happens. What happens, when the cold morning breath of a foggy night slips under the covers and over the lips and bare feet stretch evenly over a woolen rug to a world that smells of light eucalyptus and an open balcony door — What happens.
Beyond the ribbed panes of the kitchen window swings a gorgeous plum and yellow philodendron; sweeping lacquered leaves catch the breeze half in split leaf, half monstera, a good name for such a beast! She belongs to our neighbor, who carefully disregards her day after day, neutrally striving to feed her natural sunlight (9-9:30 a.m.) and a sprinkle of cloud water from the Mountains … Read More Phytophile
The mountain shudders under great weights of gusts and snow, groaning and creaking the six English climbers huddle rope-tied to rocks and tree branches listening for avalanches. And I sit here, at this metal patio table, so arbitrarily square, in a humid afternoon swatting flies and wondering what I will have for lunch.