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!

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!

not quite the same...

swing at the point.

point!

tree tunnel.

part deux.

night...

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.

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.

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.

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.