I wake up from a deep sleep to a flute playing on the beach. I grab my ukulele and follow the siren song.
20 years ago I bought a one way ticket to the islands. I happened across a magazine with Hawaii on the cover and read the article though twice on the plane. I tore it out of the magazine vowing to find every beautiful picture and wondered how a guy could show up and find so much beauty is such a short time. I eventually stumbled across every beach and valley on my own. Months later in an art gallery in Hilo I discovered all the photos from the article, the writer hadn’t taken any if them and more than likely never visited the places he wrote about. I re read the article and it wasn’t even that good, it was the pictures that made everything so interesting.
I sit on the beach waiting for the sun and I miss my Mac and Nikon. That’s who I am and what I do. Bloging from an iPhone sucks. I can’t find my Rythim nothing flows. My writing feels dead to me. My photography is boring. The process is lost without my tools and I am the process.
I have no idea what I’m doing here but this isn’t the Hawaii I came to see. So here I sit waiting always waiting. Without beach camping I’m literally traped in paradise. Today I will ride to the volcano, I hate always coming back to the same beautiful beach, I want to see them all. My mind and body need movement. Retracing my steps is not my thing.
I look at the sea and miss Sookie. I could anchor her anywhere for free. Sookie would love hawaii and her strong wind and huge seas. I should of sailed her here. I’m constantly reminded that a boat equals the ultimate freedom I desire.