I see two little white tropicbirds, with tail feathers longer than their bodies, flying somewhere towards a world of fish. One bird does not flap in front of the other. They are synchronized the way that lovers are. With minds, wings, and bodies intertwined in an exquisite romantic lunacy.
The moon has grown small and does not leave the day. She hangs high and pale waiting to shine into the night. Many believe the moon is where the souls go to wait for rebirth. Maybe that’s why it looks like the ghost of day.
I dreamt something divine this morning. Juniper was sailing through a church, from the last pew straight towards the stained glass that towered above the priest. She sailed through the church fast. Going 8 knots plus. She went so fast I feared that she was going to sail into the stained glass. I was trying to slow her down, but I was blind the moment that I needed to see. My hands grabbing unknown lines, pulling and releasing and searching for the next. Someone shouted Juniper’s top speed to the church and all around me people were cheering, clapping, throwing their fists towards the steeple, meanwhile I was still trying to open my eyes.
I have always had a strong connection to dreams and see one or more nightly. The symbolism, of which, are beacons for my waking life.
I have had dreams warn me of duplicitous friends, and business partners with ill intentions and cheating boyfriends. I’ve had dreams that mirror Native American mythologies- which were previously unknown to me- and foretell of life changing events and show me the heart of the suffering for an entire community of people. I’ve also had some that are just pure entertainment.
Anyway, this dream feels significant, which is why I shared it. I am not blind to how far I have come. It honestly feels like an illusion, like me in the ocean is some trick performed by a magician. One that he created just before his final act of turning three doves into a hot pink poodle.
I am not blind, but I can see no reason to celebrate my arrival until I have arrived. I am not there yet. I am close, but I am still out here in the middle of this blue fairytale. And who knows how many more dragons I must slay before I get to the other side.
Just now all of the birds started screaming bloody murder. I looked around to see what the fuss was about, and behind me The Grey Cloud Carriers were approaching. I got out all of my wench handles, taped my mouth shut, and got ready to go to battle. Bring it Grey Clouds, bring it!
Oh go ahead and eat the sun, I’ll fling all of the dead people in the moon at you. I’m a flower born out of volcanic ash! I’m a dust devil, a woman made of green stone, a serpent in a shadow, a beast that eats Grey Clouds for prey.
I have less than 150 NM to go. I’m not sure how long it will take me. I hope that I will arrive tomorrow before sunset. This will happen if I can get consistent wind.
During the day the wind has been light and I rely on the swell and waves to create whatever boat speed I can get. At night I soar. Last night, I was surfing up to 10 knots on some waves. With the days of light breeze and nights of speed, I have been averaging 100 NM per day.
If I arrive tomorrow and the sun is setting, I will have to stay off shore and circle around until daylight. The wind funnels in between the islands and there are narrow channels surrounded by shallow reefs. I can not risk an approach at night engine or no engine. It’s too foolish to try.
Tonight I will wake frequently to check for traffic and also to make sure my heading is good. Last night there was a wind shift and I got headed north to the next latitude! It’s been a delicate downwind dance to get back to where I was without jibing.
The only fresh food I have left consists of a few apples, some potatoes, and a head of cabbage. I have jars of things that say “refrigerate after opening” and I have to think long and hard if I can eat the whole jar before I open it. Like pickles, could I eat a whole jar of the pickles in a day? My Magic 8 Ball says “Outlook not so good.”
When I get to shore I’m gonna eat like a queen whose country just finished a 10 year war. I will eat and drink everything I see. I will climb trees and pluck fruit from the highest branches. I will tear straight into fresh coconuts with my bare teeth. I will eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner all at once. In the span of an hour. And then I will eat it all over again. And ever since I got out here all
my body wants is a hot stone bibim bop. So I will find a Korean restaurant and eat them out of every stone bowl they got.
I feel lethargic today and on the brink of sane and insane. Perhaps I have always been this way. Maybe that’s what every artists is, someone straddling the realms of that which is real and that which is not.
What is real anyway? I think about perception a lot. You and I can agree that something is yellow, but how do I know that your yellow is the same as my yellow? We won’t ever really know. Unless I give you my eyes and you give me yours.
I like to read different philosophies on this matter.
Empedocles said that our eyes consist of earth, air, fire, and water, so the “earth” element of the eye perceives that which is of earth and so on. I like this theory and wish it were true that our senses contained the elements. That’s a beautiful thought.
Pluto said we can not have true knowledge of anything that we perceive with our senses, because what we perceive through our senses is in a constant state of flux. He said we can only have true knowledge of things understood through our reason.
That assumes that the reason we are using is a constant, like math. I think in most instances reason is subjective and can’t truly be trusted as a measurement of anything. And isn’t my reason a response to my perception?
This world is a kaleidoscope and we can see within it whatever we want.
Everywhere I look I see faces. The faces of my ancestors, deities, goddesses, cartoon characters, animals. They are in the waves and the sky.
Soon the actual face of my mother is going to fly above me on her way to Honolulu. Her flight path is in alignment with mine. I imagine her on the plane pointing to the little blob that is me and telling everyone “There’s my baby, that’s her! Look, do you see her. Isn’t she precious.”
Nobody else on the plane will be able to tell me from Eve or a wave for that matter. But she’ll know it’s me and that’s what’s important.
Today I keep thinking of La Sirene. I want her to float out of the sea and kiss me on the cheek. She is a Haitian deity who possesses people and sucks them under the sea for either seven days or seven years. Once down there she teaches them the ways of magic and they return to land with sacred powers. Most Haitians, that I know, will not swim with their head underwater for fear of her. I have even heard stories of her stealing people straight off of boats. I wouldn’t mind being stolen by La Sirene if it were only for 7 days and I could truly learn the divine order of magic.
All around me rain is falling out of the sky, but it does not fall on me or Juniper, we are sailing dry.
The solar panels stopped working yesterday, but I was able fix them this morning. Those cables are quite delicate. Now, even with the clouds and rain there is power.
Soon the sun will drop down the sky like a fireball and streak the world in tie-dye. From blue to pink to fuchsia to purple to grey to yellow to tangerine.
It’s better than any fireworks I’ve ever seen.
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I know I’m close to shore, but this journey will continue. Once on land the humpback whale exploration begins and I will post tales of fiction inspired by my time at sea.