For the past month, we’ve been practicing hula in a space with no mirrors and dance-unfriendly flooring, but tonight, we returned to dancing in Polihua a Mauliola, a quonset hut that was converted into a hālau dance space and where we’ve danced our entire training prior to ʻūniki. Stepping in to the space felt kind of like visiting your childhood home after just settling into your first apartment. Returning home, everything feels intimately familiar. You know where things are located and you can relax in the space, but the truth is, itʻs not really your home anymore. That’s how I felt tonight. I missed Polihua, but more so, I missed how my body responds in that space, and how I am able to dance beside people I’ve danced with for all these years. Here are some other photos I’ve taken on my travels that speak to the amazing architecture I’ve never really noticed before going abroad.
I love photos with dramatic lighting and darkly obscured scenes, but it’s not so easy to capture when I’m behind the camera. The first photo was taken at sunset in Hilo. Since we are on the eastern side of the island, we get very different skies at sunset from Kona, but they’re still beautiful. This was taken in the parking lot of my college alma mater. The second photo was taken in Seoul last summer, walking through the Esprit Dior exhibit in Dongdaemun Design Plaza, and seeing a row of mannequins displaying the evolving fashion of the House of Dior. The final photo was taken in Taiwan last summer, in an overpass/flyover in Chia-yi.
I immediately loved the angles of this photo, which I thought showed interesting depth within a portrait layout. The young female vendor sporting her red rubber boots and walking back to the market was the intended focus of the photo, but somehow, surprisingly, focus shifted to the street.
Lately, I’ve wondered if the hopes and dreams that my ancestors may have had for me are manifesting. Is my life what they had envisioned for me? Am I living up to their expectations? Would they be proud of me if they were still alive? I see myself in this banyan tree, laden with ema plaques filled with wishes. My grandparents once pinned their hopes on me that I might live well, while my roots extend deeper into the earth. Above all else, they probably would’ve wanted me to be happy, and that, I most certainly am, thanks to them. In response to: State of Mind
In response to Optimistic: I love the concept of bike-sharing. As a tourist, it’s an affordable and “green” way to sightsee, while also getting in a little physical activity. In Taipei last August, I saw these bike rentals outside the hotel, and immediately thought to rent one and ride down to the Daan Forest Park. In the end, I decided against it since I had 1 hour before having to check out of the Chaiin Hotel in Dongmen. Also, the instructions were in Chinese and it was a stifling 90 degrees. Excuses, excuses, I know, but I really was pressed for time. One of the things I’d like to do when I go back to Seoul is to rent a bike and ride along the Han River. Other bloggers have mentioned how beautiful the views are so it’s definitely on my list of Seoul To-Do’s. Our local university here in Hilo recently implemented a bike share program for students. Abandoned bikes on campus were given makeovers, with new seats, tires, and fresh coats of paint. Now students can borrow these bikes for free to run errands …
On my trip to Taiwan last summer, we visited Sio House, a salt museum in Anping, Tainan. I’ve always fostered an appreciation for salt. As a native of Kauaʻi, where one of our prized cultural items is the precious paʻakai made in Hanapēpē, I was excited about this stop. After going through the salt purification station outside, I stepped over the threshold and was greeted by a display of little circular bowls containing colored salts. The bowls represented the 366 days of the year, and I was taken by their vibrant colors. I sincerely wish you wonderful birthdays ahead, everyday, in 2016. … in response to this week’s Weekly Photo Challenge, Circle
January February March April May June July August September October November December a special mahalo to our dear friend Adrel, who is always there to capture special moments for us.
Gathering I spent 2 weeks in Taiwan this summer and looking back on that experience, what I loved was how people seemed to gravitate easily toward each other there. Whether it was spending time in a group or traveling alone, one never felt lonely. What first greeted me outside the airport was a thick wall of sticky heat. It’s not like I was surprised by it, since I had been tracking the weather for weeks prior, but it certainly took getting used to. When I met up with my long-time mentor, who now lives in Taiwan, he asked, “Of all the months, why are you here during summer? It’s the most miserable time of the year,” as he sat in the shade, soaked in his shirt. Well, after the first 3 days of saying “It’s hot,” I made the conscious decision to stop talking about the weather. There was so much more to get excited about and complaining about the heat was preventing me from opening up to new experiences. Over the course of the next two …
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Change.” Advanced roadways and high speed internet connect us, but how connected are we if we are cruel to each other and disregard those less fortunate? I miss the slower, gentler Hawaiʻi, when striking up a conversation with a stranger didn’t seem burdensome. I’m an optimist… in the end, love and nature will surely prevail.