… fairwell my island …

As I leave my island,  all the elements that went into
creating the months of experiences that will always
stay with me, come into my mind’s eye ….

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… sad evening, happy days …


“I have some Murphy’s Soap,” comes the call, as I’m writing
in my journal…out of site but not mind…
“Maybe you can wash the table …”

The afternoon, the after outs, has been a series of instructions
and guidances from the Radiant One,
I call her this here, to avoid calling her by her real name….no wait….
by her Not-Real but Name-She-Calls-Herself Name…..
the one that lets the world know in no uncertain terms just
Who they are dealing with…

It’s more  a staking of claims thing, a series of Adjectives that
sound like she picked out three Angel cards for the day,
the ones that imply One Who Has Achieved Enlightenment,
just in case you were wondering,  instead of just nice suggestions
for the day’s meditations…
Oh, I hope I don’t sound too bitter… I’m loosing my hold on love…

…more instructions from the Radiant One who really would like it
if I stayed a while, so that her entire Reality is clean and sparkling
and Goddess Ready …

I choose not to answer, still ensconced on the Lanai, the one
with the folding table and chair, the one place that I can venture
to call mine, the one with mosquitos who have managed to slip
in through that small tear in the screen, and
are now ravaging my calves.

She is busy on the phone, checking in with all of her Support
Services, the ones she had wanted me to call and say it was her,
the ones I refused to lie to.
She checks in on that house that she wants built in the center
of the healing center that she wants to run.
She sounds irritated, and I wonder how things are progressing.

Meanwhile, evening descends, and I phone my friends Jeff and
Eileen, those heavy duty artist friends of mine, and before
I know it, I am crying as I share deep feelings of abandonment,
of being disrespected, of the power tripper I am at the mercy of,
all of it……… no…..
By now I am sobbing…. an abused child sobbing…

Eileen is aghast,  emotional, unable to grasp the reality that
I’m puttin’ down, unable to believe that anyone could be  so cruel,
so oblivious, so controlling.
By now I’ve lost any and all empathy for the woman, and feel
pure nausea at the abuse, but still there seems to be no escape.

And there’s still this part in me that wants to stay kind, and
not allow her attributes to alter mine.

Their car is still in process, tomorrow looks good, and the
woman is unwilling to move her fat ass to drive as far as
our mutual friends’ place…

Remember….they are the ones who introduced us in the first place,
they are the ones who brought back to her her very words when
she tried to reneg on the car and charge me rent on it…
they are the ones who supported me, encouraged me,  and
shared the fact that she has HUD, and only pays $200 a month,
when she tried to get me to pay her whole rent….

They are my friends.
They also thought She was a friend, but turns out Jeff only really
knew her from years ago, when they were all stoned hippies.

Eileen , as it turns out, later refused to even speak to the woman
for more than a year, and kept saying..
“But she was mean to my Friend!”
…while Jeff is just  totally confused  with the whole story,
perhaps a little doubtful, but still miffed.

So the night passes with minimum encounters, and I’m sleeping
on the little couch, the  radio comfort wafting into the
Radiant One’s ears, and my precious jar of organic honey that
I bought while staying with Jeff and Eileen has enjoyed a
last minute black ops rescue, and is now happily stuffed into
my almost out of here bags.
No one will steal my precious organic honey and live to see dawn.

My Friends come to pick me up the next day, and I breathe
a gigantic sigh of relief, while my poor little psyche licks her bruises
and mends all the lesions in those little Hopes and Dreams and
Aspirations for a new world, kind and
Smiling Happy People holding hands…. (nice thought REM…)

They cuddle me with soft strokes and fresh fruit smoothies,
take me on walks to their favorite waterfalls, and we toast
ourselves on those warm sands, dipping in turquoise waters
for the last time, and then to the Airport, and mainland, to
Northern California, my Mendocino Heaven, where
my dear friend Mick  picks me up from the bus, and
takes me to my real home once again…

A Love Note from Jeff and Eileen…..





… the woman returns …

As the rains wash the faces of lush leaves and grateful grasses,
I become restless for change.  Contact with old friends brings
longings to my heart, longings for home and the familiar.

Work lined up, the late summer that some call Indian Summer,
has descended upon the Coast of California, the colors and warm
waters calling to my senses.
It’s time to pin down times, make plans, find friends to greet me,
and say goodbye to my island times in Hilo Town.

The Radiant One has announced her arrivals, and I will be driving
Her car to pick Her up, and chauffeur Her to home.
Completions are both delightful and difficult.

I decide in my journal, that She will be a character in some novel
of mine, for I have yet to meet anyone who glows with such self
absorption, such clear definition of who she is and what her
roles are…as well as everyone else’s.

I arrive at the Airport, brilliant sun, swaying palms, soft trades
wafting flower essences, and I am high on life.
Soon she is spotted, and we smile and embrace.
Her patchouli blots out all soft frangipani and plumeria,
as though her conflicts are with the entire island, that must
now know with all certainty, that She is returned.

She wears dark rich colors, and many layers, covering her more
than abundant flesh.  There’s no telling where the layers end
and the flesh begins, but it’s clear to see she has eaten well.
Kohl eyes, dark dyed hair, necklaces tinkling, bracelets
shimmering as she motions to where her luggage is.

I must lift them off the carousel, as her back is bad.
As she glances around to see if that handsome porter has
noticed her, her earrings, massive and audible, tangle in the
bundles of dark hair and veils and scarves, and she seems
somewhat unaware that I am struggling in any way to place
her things on a cart, and get the hell out of there.

The fact that I am 5-2 doesn’t seem to faze her….ah but I am
strong, pain free, able bodied, never mind that I  am easily within
three years of her age, and nearly half her size….
I bring the car to the curb, load the suitcases, and thankfully
she finds the door handle herself,  and manages to slide her
abundant beingness inside without help.

Phase one completed.

Homeward bound, she chats about her past and her future.
There doesn’t seem to be much present, but then
I allow for jet lag.
It’s early evening, and after I unload the car and bring her things
upstairs for her, she begins unpacking, and now moves in to her
bedroom, the place I have slept for two months.
My things, of course, have been packed up and moved out, and
I figure since it’s a small place, the screened lanai is the best place
to be out of her way, while the different parts of her arrive.
There is a card table and a folding chair… and mosquitos.

She moves to the kitchen, where she begins putting things in order…
and I discover that Her order is to put all my foods away in the
cupboard and refrigerator where She likes them, instead together
and accessible on the front shelf.
All my food is now hidden from view, including all my wonderful
and expensive organic coffees, now in Her freezer, my cream,
butters, nuts and cheeses, now in Her fridge door shelves behind
doors, and my condiments up high on Her shelves where
I can’t reach them…..
Everything is now marked with her scent and assigned
a new life in her world.

The Shock of her assumptions proceeds to confusion….
what the what?
…and I wonder if all of her nerve endings make U turns back into
themselves, because there seems to be no input from anything
outside of Herself.

When something about my food is mentioned, the reply comes…
“Don’t worry about it….” she tosses off over her left shoulder…
“I left you plenty of food.”

Uh….hmmmm….but  as I recall, it consisted of some produce that
needed quick use, much of which was cooked and fed to her male
friends, who’d been told that I would make lunch for them,
good slave girl that I am.  Oh well…..

I make plans for a black ops rescue, my coffee and cheeses and
almonds and sauces rushed to safety, while she’s in the shower…..

The evening looms, and although there is a small couch in the
front room that I figure I can now relax on, she seems to have
taken that over, spreading out all sorts of papers and notes and
receipts and pictures, and is lost in her ordering-of-self phase.
She never makes eye contact…

She brings out all of her precious Icons now, the ones I carefully
put away in drawers for safe keeping, and for my sanity.
She thoughtfully arranges them, one by one, each
in its proper place.

Oh it’s gonna be a long night.
She couldn’t Possibly venture out into the world to drive me to
my friends’ house tonight!  She’s exhausted.

She turns on her radio station, and crawls into bed.
There are night lights, and the sounds are loud.
At some point, I quietly move to turn down the volume, but
like a cat with one eye open, she catches me, and insists that
it be turned back to where it was.
She just can’t sleep without the radio on.

At last I curl up on that little couch, pillow over my head,
hoping to pretend to hear the trades, and see the moon.






… the radiant one …

September, 2005

The near daily calls from the woman chip away at my patience.

She calls for the mail readings, she calls for any messages,
she calls to ask if I’m getting along ok with Paul, the owner…..

(Little does she know that Paul has great respect for me because
of all the work (paid) I do around the place, a bit of a contrast
from what he’s been used to….. )

She calls to ask if I’m walking the dog every day, and
to make sure I’m not driving the car too much….
She calls to ask if I can wash all her
windows and screens, and scrub the ceilings…
….no really.

Since I’ve been working for  Paul, she figures she’ll get some
stuff done.  I explain what my charges are, and she of course
wants to bargain.  I also mention that I don’t do ceilings….

There are calls from men, asking about massages, and when
she will return.
One asks if I would give massages, and if I do massages like
the Radiant One.
“”What kind is that?  I ask….
“Sensual Massage….” he answers.

Next time we talk, I mention the calls, and inquire about the
particulars, and after some specific prodding,
she basically tells me that sensual massage involves Release.

Oh Good Lord.  This woman is Nuts.  She actually explains about
the Mystical Healing energies involved, and how Release is
just part of a relaxing and Spiritual massage.

I explain that Happy Endings are not my thing, at least not
in a Professional Situation, and although I do enjoy giving
massages for good pay…
( as well as enjoying the employment of
Release in a Personal setting )…..
……I decide to do None of her clients,
for fear of getting into some
very sticky situations….


… the coquis …

My friends Jeff and Eileen had to move again… they have been
house sitting the place on the papaya plantation, and that has
come to an end… so Jeff calls and asks if I’ll come look at this place
with him, as Eileen is on the mainland.

We arrive, and it’s in the middle of what is literally a tropical forest.
It’s an upstairs artists’ loft, and as we climb the stairs, there are
wild and leafy murals on each side, guiding us to a widely windowed
flat with sweeping views of the treetops, vines draping, little balconies
on which to stand, open except for a bedroom, enclosed Asian style.

The openness of the place immediately strikes me, and a vision of
their work spaces and wide tables covered with projects just fits,
under those high ceilings, fans dreamily turning, breezes softly
wafting, that eternal blueness in the distance.
It opens the brain pan, stretches the reach of inspiration.
…..and for me it’s an immediate Yes!

He is one of the inventors of the Hologram, with a couple other guys
back in the sixties.  Their style was the flat kind…the ones that jump
off the page at you.
There was another school of thought developing at the same time,
and oddly enough I know one of those fellows as well.
They each have chosen to spend time in Point Arena, and of course
are friends now as well.
That school developed the one that you can walk around, and the
image follows you and changes, moves…

The most famous and original holo is called The Kiss.  You may
have seen it.
The woman was quite young at the time, and she is blowing a kiss
to you as you move from one side to the other of this semi circle
of clear material mounted on the wall, that holds the imagery.

I wish I understood holos.  Jeff has tried to explain them to me,
but to no avail.  To me they are just magic, pure and simple.

Eileen is this magical little elfin person, a blond sprite brimming
over with energy and glee from just being alive.  She was the
protegee of Erte, the old queen artist world famous for costumes
and stage design, as well as fashion, in the thirties and forties.
She worked and trained with him for seven years.

Now she designs the most glorious sculptures that are reproduced
for large companies like Promax, MTV,  and others, for their awards ceremonies.
We’ve all seen the Oscars… no, she didn’t design these, but hers
are much like that, frequently female forms which she excels in,
and you can see Erte’s influence in all her work.  Lucky her!

She has been commissioned make both 2D and 3D objects d’Art
for many famous people and their estates, like the clear lucite
miniature “Lucile” guitar, a gift for BB King, and etched repros of
John Lennon sketches.  So many wonderful things,  I won’t go on.

So an expansive creative space for these two is rather essential!

I’m completely going Yes with all of my being, and Jeff loves it, but
he’s having trouble deciding.  Eileen is gone, he must make the call,
and there’s one big problem.
That gorgeous jungle out three sides of windows?  it’s filled with….
the infamous COQUI FROG!!.  Millions of them.

They started invading the big island years ago, and now have taken
over many places…so much so that it’s lowering the land values.
No Really… some people just freak out at the sound.
Personally, i think it’s quite clever of those little frogs…

See… they are tiny frogs (one inch) with very big voices, and
at night they hold major parties with wild abandon, dancing girls
and froggy orgies…!
Great for them, but their chirps are so loud, you’d never guess
their tiny size, and some people’s brains just get taken over
by their vibrational levels.

To me they sound like crickets… allbeit very Loud crickets…but
I can just put them in that category in my mind, and be done with it.
He’s just not sure She will be able to cope.  She’s sensitive…

He decides, we decide, and next day I help him move all their studios
into this magical place… done with it, and Eis will have to adjust, at
least until the next place.   Earplugs work…she loves ear plugs.

They like to move a lot, and because of their work they have so many connections with monied folks, and they end up house sitting 3/4 of
the time in amazing places.  They love change.  I think it inspires them.

Meanwhile, I am delighting in my little hippie house with dog and cat, landscaping work, helping the owner next door organize and clean,
and exploring the island a little.

Up in a town called Volcano, up top of the…. bet you guessed….
there has been built a tiny theater … the Ulua , named for a fish…
and the entire area around it is being brought back to its original
glory, with plantings and clearings.

Jason Scott Lee, famous for playing Bruce Lee, Mowgli in Jungle Book,
and The King on stage in NY in their the King and I production….
He has left Hollywood,  gone native, back to his roots, and built this
little theater, so now there’s this little energy center forming that
I find fascinating.
He’s focusing on natural farming and sustainable agriculture, all
around his property, and is seriously weary of the Hollywood scene.

There’s his first play opening soon, Burn This, and I plan to go.
Maybe Jeff and Eileen, and maybe this guy Steve, will go too…..


Go here if you want to know more  about the COQUIS!!!
and you can hear them too….



… the we of it …

The islands have always been good to me.
From the first breath I took when in 1987 I visited for
the first time…flowers suspended in moist clear air…
I knew I was home.  It was the Garden.

The body knew too, and health and peaceful days always
followed me there, even when Hurricane Iniki in 1992
included me, and devastated Kauai…. still it was all a gift.

This time, in the summer of 2005, was no different.
Things fell into place, and the inundation of nature only
proceeded to lead me to the core, to the very soul of my
existence, and my heart, mind and body followed.

By being on my own path, separating myself from the
attachment I was feeling for Alcir and our life together,
my vision cleared, and I knew what I wanted in my life
besides him.
I could see clearly what was him and what was me….
…and isn’t this something that is Always needed
in a relationship?
We All need our Man Cave, so to speak, and it needs to
be OK to want that, and to take that…. for Each of us.

There is no judgement here.  We each have our path, and
things we must do, promises to ourselves that we must keep.
The problem is our expectations, and our programming,
particularly when it comes to relationships.

We have been told that when you are in love, you blend,
merge, combine, and fall into roles that have worked for
millennia….  but is this truth?

Respect for self and other demands the together
AND the Apart…

And because of these histories, teachings, beliefs and
outdated roles, we are caught in guilt and confusion.
The options are not made clear to ourselves, or to society
as a whole, and so we bang our heads against these walls,
while trying against hope to fit between them.

When it doesn’t fit, doesn’t feel good, isn’t working like
we Think it should, it falls apart or blows up.
But shouldn’t we be Creating other ways of being with another?
And shouldn’t this creative endeavor be a Good Thing,
even a commendable one?

This is what I was thinking about, and had been thinking
about for many years.
And this is the gift that the islands gave to me….

Space to create anew…..







…longtime island time…

The days fall into place as she settled in to the new space.
The dog was a wonderful excuse to walk long distances,
down a rough red clay road, tropical trees lining each
side.  The walks got longer each day, and she sped up the
pace to where they were going first one mile, then two…

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Although the dog was older, he adapted quickly, and the
two of them worked towards strength and stamina.
In the afternoons she rested, the midday heat slowly
lightening with the trades blowing in.
Writing, reading, dozing.  Very island time.

He was back on track now, after the stressful times, and
was making plans for his future, their future.
He tells her he wants to gain his Captain’s License, and
classes, though expensive, begin soon.
He’s getting excited about another future, one that
He makes for himself.
Lazarus Rising….

He’s on a roll this time, seeing the door opening, seeing a
Path with Dignity, an escape with his head held high.

He talks of the North, of the oil fields, the Tundra where
trees can’t grow, the perma frost, the Caribou.

He tells her about Bowhead whales that follow the ice,
and take 20 minute dives, and how Balooga whales
can turn their heads.
Of the Inupiat, who look to the ocean for the majority
of their food, the whole of their life.
He speaks of 12 foot thick ice, often for many square
miles, and what shorefast ice and sea ice are,
and how they’re different.

He tells her that Lemmings stay active all year round,
one of the only mammals to do so…
He is so fond of extremes, of challenges, of adventure,
and she wonders at his long held courage.

They shared the thought that in these times, it was
Get Your Shit Together Time for each, and he seemed
ready to face his emotional homework that he knows
he’s run away from all his life.

She meanwhile, faced her own demons, largely making
her own way, creating money out of nothing, and
remaining steadfast in their pledge to eachother.

The future looked brighter, and the meantime held
magic here…. and there as well, as his
magnificent clarity returned.



…kosmic kookies…

So it’s Monday, and I’m at the housesitting house.
Very nice, small, functional, typical simple island home,
surrounded by jungle and quiet,
with lots of windows.

The dog is a gentle sweet wolfie type that I adore,
the cat a siamese mix, very independant and also sweet.

The woman is…. hmmm.  I’m still assimilating…..
She dresses in exotic middle eastern belly dancing,
hippie goddess garb, wears lots of Patchouli, and has
crystals and magical objects on and around her, with
pictures of gurus and eastern deities on every shelf.

“Where is my favorite tape, Tantric Dreams?” she says to
herself, as she rummages through the bookshelves…

She sets me on some of her tasks that need to be finished
before she leaves.  She has a borrowed sewing machine that
won’t work right…. could i see if i can get it working?
There are a couple things that need mending… maybe
you can do those? she mentions…

I  help her get Propane and attach it, assist her with packing
away things while she’s gone, and we go over the list, which
includes calling the phone company to change the service,
going to the insurance office and get the new card for the car,
and taking her trash to the dump.

Then I need to  mow the lawn, which she hasn’t been able to
get to in a while…and which will have to be done every week.
Walk the dog daily, wash him weekly…
…..fortunately I don’t have to wash the cat…

“You haven’t seen my “Mind and Body Tonic” have you?”
she calls out from the bath…

She has a couple fellows over for some sort of a meeting
about this healing center that she’s very involved with, and
they seem nice, and together enough.
She’s definitely  seems to be some sort of Consultant or Expert
on matters of a Spiritual Learning Center, and these two guys
are the money and minds, the property already procured.

She tells me they are coming over tomorrow, after she leaves,
and will expect lunch, and so I am to make it for them…
an organic vegan thing…
and oh, she won’t have times to clean up the kitchen now,
and that juicer has been sitting a while, and needs to be
cleaned out really well, before I can make them their
organic juice drink.

She is working with all of her being to be part of this Healing
Center soon to be built.  Not just a part, but the Central Core,
with plans for them to build her her own house, and she will
conduct classes in a variety of cosmic subjects, earning
a nice income.

Her name is a combination of Three Adjectives, and I
wonder to myself….
I mean, I have friends who have been given a special name
by a guru, or a teacher, or some channeled session, but …
Have you ever seen those Angel Cards?  Where everyday
you meditate, and then choose one for the Word of today. …?

The words are always positive and inspiring, and I wonder….
…because it’s almost like she’d picked three of these cards,
to see what the Cosmos wanted her to be called.

Let’s just say it was something like
Joyous Glowing Rainbow Essence,
or something close to it.

The place is great.  The animals are great.  Later I meet the
landlord who lives next door, and he’s great.
He has lots of paying work for me if I’m interested, and he
has a business selling Solar Panels on line.  Nice.

All I have to do is take all her messages, and repeat them all
to her when she calls, as well as pick up her mail every day,
and read it to her when she calls again.
Hmmmm. …..this woman needs a servant… or two….

“Have you seen my Swami Beyondananda Book?”, she wonders
from the bedroom, as I am loading her suitcases into the car.
She has a bad back.

I drive her to the airport, carry her luggage to the check in,
and wait while she does all the stuff she needs to do, help
her with her carry-ons, and see her off.

I’m told I cannot drive the car very far,  that she just doesn’t
want to worry about something going wrong, but that’s ok…
NO problem… I really don’t want to do much driving at all.
Live in the jungle, do a little yard work for the landlord, who
Loves it that I like to do physical work… and he pays well.

After her needs are tended to, I then I go ‘home’, clean the
house, wash down the kitchen, spend a half an hour cleaning
the juicer, make lunch for those fellow friends of hers, who
were actually very interesting company…very bright and
…one I called (to myself) Josef the Real, the blonde Rasta
boy with kaleidoscope eyes…
…and S, the suave 40 yr old rich guy, a bit like Ben Afleck,
with a flash of Tom Cruise…
He’s the one who’s financing the deal.
Then I clean up from that, and finally relax.  Ahhhh…..
Alone at last.  Deep sigh…

Hmmmm…. maybe Three servant girls….

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Staying around, making jewelry, going to the beach, visiting
my friends J and E….. who are highly brilliant creative artists
in their own right….going to the magical blue ponds where the
algae makes the inner pools glow, and you dive under the rocks
to come up into this cavern of iridescence….
…earning money next door, and doing yard work in the middle
of this beautiful jungle….. taking miles of walks down wild roads,
…..it all is just Heaven before me.

Next Phase has Begun!  and we all know…it’s All a Phase!



…moving along…

On to my next adventure!  It’s time to move to my new
place, and be alone for the first time in three weeks….
something I really enjoy.

I pack lightly, a friend will drive my things to the other
side of the island in a day or two, as weight restrictions
on these interisland flights are limiting.
My friend J meets me, decked out in Fedora and string
tie, looking all island glam, and we pick up where we left
off years ago.  Real friends are like that, aren’t they?

His wife E is on the mainland for a few days, so he and I play
catchup, and he shows me His island life.  The music he shares
is so uplifting and inspirational, very broad based and hip.

Here’s one of his Very Favorites… between Jazz, Classic Rock,
and Alternative stuff I’d never heard, this was the One he
played the most of…
Such an Uplifting Message!

They are staying in a gorgeous, huge place, in the middle of
a papaya farm, with jungle views and distant blues…
They go swimming every day!

He drives his van around the coolest spots, where we swim
in the little lagoons and find the hidden lava pools, where
families gather to embrace the sparkling blue energies from
deep within the island hollows.

We go to a hula show, a Real one at a small bar, with several
members of the same family, all different ages, and the
sweetest voices ever.
My friend has this beautiful awakening to Hawaiian music
and hula, actually grokking its essence and spirituality.
He’s higher than the clouds now, and we are both blissed out.

Alcir called several times, drunk and bummed out about his boat…
or should I say his Not Boat.
One time he’s happy, the next very sad… and what he calls
“Drunk as a Skunk”.
I feel strangely distant, and find myself gaining perspectives
on some of it… at least on the bi-polar aspects of his world.

Journal… Thurs June 9, 2005

“I just begin wondering if it will ever work out.  It all seems so
far away, and he doesn’t seem to be able to break out of his
web of restraints.
I must go on alone, and let things open for me, set up a future
that has no definition.  Shit… I thought alone was done for.
This whole thing seems a little cruel.”

“Can I deal with a drunk who does drugs, hates his mother,
has few friends and major regrets about his life?  That’s a lot.

When he’s straight, he’s Aquarian, cool, controlled, serious
and thought provoking.  He’s brilliant and very sane.

When he’s drunk, he’s funny… then progresses to morbidly
sad and focuses on my ass.  Not really appealing. ”

On Sunday, I will go to the housesitting place, get introduced to
the scene there in Pahoa, and get to know the little animal folk
I will be living with.
The woman will be there a couple days, and then leave for
many weeks.  I’m excited!