Monday, July 4, 2011

The blogs, they are a movin'

Having realized that I can only force myself into one or 2 internet medias a week, I've moved all the arty news blog life stuff here:
http://beastwares.tumblr.com/

I didn't forget you, I've just... moved on. Come with!

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Back in the saddle...

...And covered in fake fur! New stuff soon! New BeastWares! New New New! AIEEEEE!


I have no pictures for you yet.

I love you!

Monday, January 17, 2011







not quite the same...


swing at the point.


point!


tree tunnel.


part deux.

night...

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

I am having a sensitive day and kind of hiding from everyone, lest I burst into tears and make a scene. On the plus side, I inherited a real mattress from a departing frenchman and my sleeping life just got exponentially better.

If I hear one more thing today about how one's aching back, bug bites and broken clock are the universe telling one something, I may scream.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Up early for kundalini yoga, which, as it turns out, involves lots of fast breathing and choreographed flapping of arms. It's amazing how hard that can be. My mood for the past 2 days has been hovering between lonely and just sort of sick of listening to my own head, but yoga seems to help (as irritating and Boulder a sentence as that is.) Made friends with one of the guests, a 50-some woman here for a current yoga retreat and had a nice lunch with her, talking about life and finding your way and all that. Feeling a little better, though also like a damn hippie.

It's weird to have nothing to do. Time moves differently. I'm craving projects, but simple ones, like a popsicle stick house or something. Beads. Friendship bracelets.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

First morning shift. Started out sensitive and cranky and spending most of my internal monologue explaining to myself why being sensitive and cranky was pointless and unhelpful. I hate being the new kid in the kitchen, but at least it will only be a day or two until there's someone newer than me. Constant turnover isn't all bad. Had a surprisingly deep conversation in 30 minutes or less out on the point during break, perked up, and generally survived. Serving people buffet-style food is somewhat unfortunate...people are so very particular about their food and really don't want to be served that way; you can see them itching to snatch the spoon out of your grasp.

It's been two days of too much self-questioning and navel-gazing, and I'm sick of myself and my tiresome issues and concerns.

Time for a shower and a good kick in the head.

Friday, January 7, 2011

It's a cold and grey day, meaning only in the high 60's. Everyone is grousing about how cold it is. Love it. I had such a nice birthday... I expected to let it pass without much notice or hoopla, but the whole breakfast table burst out in song when I got there. Everyone, even people I hadn't met yet, bombarded me with well-wishes all day. Barcus and Jonathan, an amazing set of old-marrieds, took me out to thai dinner in Pahoa. Corey came along, and we rode the 20 minute or so trip to Pahoa in the back of Jonathan's pickup, watching the lonely country road wind out behind us. Pahoa is a tiny little town that reminds me a bit of Glenwood Springs with a rustic clapboard main street and, apparently, a meth problem. I guess meth is the drug of choice in these parts, owing to the ability to make it out of things already available on-island. Jonathan looked resplendent in a gauzy shirt and a billowy scarf, and the two of them told stories about their dog show days. When we got back, we rumbled over to the Field of Dreams, where the ag crew had built a huge bonfire. A few hours of chatting and I walked home under the explosion of stars, Orion sailing right overhead.

The day before, I wandered down the road about a mile and half to Kehena, the hidden black sand beach. The ocean is literally across the street, but we're up on these vicious black-rock cliffs, so you can only gaze longingly at it. Kehena is at the bottom of a winding, rocky descent, and is a beautiful little cove of black sand with a friendly warning sign near the entrance alerting one to the great numbers of people who have met their end there. Yay. The waves are strong, the undertow intense, and black volcanic rocks are likely to be thrown into the surf... so I don't think I'll be doing much swimming. Mind you, the owner of Kalani and a few other hardy, tanned, very naked souls marched in with flippers and snorkels and trekked out to some rocks a mile or so away...impressive.

This afternoon I start my kitchen duties, wish me luck.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Hawaiiiiiii!
It's amazing how tired I get, and how fast. But it's this weird, outdoor, energized tired. I arrived
yesterday afternoon in a haze of sun and shock at being warm for once. Since then I've been in an exhausting whirlwind of adjusting and trying to hide my general wide-eyed-awkward terror. Everyone has been amazingly friendly, but of course there's a period of feeling like the new kid at summer camp. My tent, predictably, doesn't fit my tent area. We get an 8'x8' wooden platform with a 16'x16' carport-style awning over it...everyone else has some variation on your basic dome or room tents, but noooooo, I had to get the cool one that looks like a damn teepee...and... it's too tall. So I've McGyvered it together, tying the top to the awning poles and guy wiring it out, but it still looks like a menacing jellyfish perching in the grass, breathing in sinister billows. Ah well. Some of the volunteers stay in these tiny little A-frames...I admit I'm rampantly jealous. More reason to come back as a "seasoned veteran" I suppose.

I'm not sure how to begin to describe this place. It's so different from where I just left that it's overwhelming. All the buildings are "rustic", made largely of screen walls and windows. The stars are INSANE. It's darker than dark at night. It's SO INCREDIBLY WET. I've been warned that my clothes, even if I haven't worn them, are likely to mold. Nothing really dries, ever. It rains in violent, drenching bursts. The trees in the center areas are draped in lights and look like they are glowing from within. I thought California was fertile and covered in growing things, but this place puts it to shame. Agriculture is constantly fighting back the rampant growth, and everything is just walls of dense green pocked with swollen flowers. It is NEVER quiet. There are frogs that sing day and night. They sound like birds and crickets combined, but not frogs...They have several different songs, but they never, ever stop. It sounds grating, but isn't.

Today I woke up feeling overwhelmed. Overly overwhelmed, and I had to retreat into my jelly-tent and nap it off. But... this afternoon I made a bracelet woven of leaves. I couldn't tell you the name of the tree or the style of weaving because it all had fantastic Hawaiian names that careened in and out of my head as fast as most of the names of people I've been meeting. Anyway, I sat on a patio-couch with a few friendly people and listened to Auntie Lynda teach me to make something. Barefoot in cut-offs and a tank top and at perfect body temperature, watching a bright green gecko climb the wall, listening to the sound of waves smashing into black-lava cliffs right behind me. Then a yoga class in a huge, domed room: wood floors, lit by colored upshot lights, trees inside and out and open to the sea. I mean, come ON. That's pretty great. Maybe I don't want to go home yet.




This doesn't look like much, since it's, you know, dark, but I'm in a grove of lit-up trees.
Just LISTEN!

I tried to upload a picture of the beast-tent, but blogger doesn't want to play along. Maybe later, if you're good.