Touchdown Honolulu, or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love Da Kine

“Place inspires me to be.”


Here are some pictures to tide you over until I am back from vacation. That will be Sunday after I attend the birthday celebration for Queen Lili’uokalani. I have at least one interview and some locations to post. Until then, enjoy ;)

Landing in Honolulu

Light and Dark

Looking into the TRADEWINDs

The surf at Sandy Beach

Sunset viewed from the Windward side of the island



Time lapse

More than anything I just need to know that the unimaginable is possible.

A grand adventure is yours unique, if you decide that’s what you seek. I take a peek where my dog would sleep, a tiny corner by the door, still I have room to scribble more. I wait for the thoughts no more than before, to take me away to another shore. My feet sink in as the tides begin, stealing the sand as though my toes won’t know.

Time is spilling through the glass, but never does it spill the last. A million a grain to mark the past, creating a mountain whose shadow is cast. Through the glass containing it all, the future arrives while watching it fall.

We see time end, and turn it again.

Coming into focus

begin verb \bi-ˈgin, bē-\

1: to do the first part of an action : go into the first part of a process

2: to come into existence : to have a starting point

Choosing to begin something typically makes me nervous. Life is filled with numerous external stimuli that create opportunities to begin, but in those cases, beginning seems more like a response, not a choice.

To choose to begin though, that is freedom. The ability to control when, why, how, where, and what you begin can be very revealing. This also tends to make me feel very vulnerable. It is as if I expect the world to look at what I chose to bring into existence at that moment, and judge how I spend my time.

Part of me hopes it does.

My life was a beginning gifted to me through the actions of another. A reflection of what stood before me, made of the same but with a perspective altered through the looking glass. This idea seems contrary to my previous view on life: “I am writing the story of my life.” This no longer seems accurate.

I am a character in the story of life.

This statement admits that while I control my actions, any direction, tone, or meaning of life rests in the hands of the multitudes. This also begs the question: if we are all co-authoring such a grand piece of literature, who is our audience?

Someone infinite in nature.

A supreme being that reads our story and knows how each individual character is connected to the whole. This being knows that I expect great things of myself and am currently doing nothing to move toward them. My potential is limited only by creating excuses to continue sitting idly in a town with which I have grown too comfortable. Watching the town grow, rather than my self.

It is time for some character development.

On August 30th I will move from my old Kentucky home of  seventeen years to an archipelago in the middle of the Pacific. My hope is that Oahu will give me a greater understanding of aloha so I can share it with the world. Grant me some of your time and I will give you my perspective of a  journey to better understand the story of life and the characters writing it. Maybe along the way I’ll get an opportunity to shake your hand.

Now I have begun.