Serial Manifesto

I stayed up too late last night. We had business to attend to --- bridges to mend, apologies to make, hugs for hurt feelings. Normal stuff, I guess. It's easy to cross wires with people you love, and the closer you are, the harder it is. But yesterday was a super good day. New job prospect, nice dress, good friends, reconnection, healing, elaborate and hilarious plan making. This morning I overslept and skipped the gym to detail my car. I accidentally exploded a whole bag of

I hold my breath a lot --- under water, when I'm thinking deeply, when I'm painting and trying to hold a straight line. But when we're paddling I can't. I was already caught doing that and was corrected, and anyway on the canoe we're basically panting -- groaning and roaring and counting and shouting. I am at least. We have to breathe: forward out, back in. 3-part painting in progress — a triptych Panel 1: Skull and scrolls (the wall) Panel 2: The cats Panel 3: The wild Mexic

Let me tell you what it’s like to be too much and not enough. 1983 - Gardena, CA I was born September 9, 1981 in Santa Monica California. 9.9.81. I like to brag that I grew up in the fledgling stages of Punk Rock and Hip Hop in Los Angeles and New Mexico. Beyond that my mom had a great, adamant love of music, and my grandparents had old-timey records, and their jazz standards paved the way for my early years spent singing in an Italian restaurant and later at weddings with m

I was recently paddling out of Kona Bay when I attempted to motivate my crew in a soliloquy of expletives (picked up mostly through my boat work over the years). My coach quickly corrected me, “Remember how you speak on a traditional Hawaiian outrigger. Words matter.” As someone with a background in cultural anthropology this caught my attention. Did I just commit a huge cultural faux pas? I teared up, embarrassed by my mistake, and then I did my research. In traditional Hawa