Monday, February 2, 1981
Well, here I am, minus flashlight and tamari nuts, at the Kahului Airport, on my way out. I got soggy last night at Baldwin Park and decided to abandon my tent. I packed everything else, except evidently the flashlight and tamari nuts, and walked away, leaving that awful inadequate plastic thing flapping in the wind. The other people here, a sorry lot reduced to, “Spare food, brother?” will never know what happened to me. I disappeared in the night, leaving my tube tent behind, a butterfly leaves behind the shell of its chrysalis. Ha ha! I’m sure one of them can use it.
So I walked toward a rainbow in the drizzle, and got a ride to the airport after walking about a mile. Next stop, Honolulu.
Aloha Airlines has six gate numbers here, 6, 7, 8, 9, 11, and 12, but they’re all in one glass wall with only three doors, and all three doors open to the same outside, which you walk through to get to the plane. And why no gate 10?
Outside the window
palm and pandanus shaking
in the cold wind.
Honolulu is warm and sunny. The California Agriculture man has stopped me from carrying any oranges on board, so now I’m gorging myself on oranges. Little does he know there’s also some in my baggage.
It’s a long wait, so I draw the airplane outside the window. The name painted on its nose, Justin Dart, is kind of catchy.
Turns out that’s my plane. Here we are, a vast crowd lined up to climb aboard the Justin Dart. The plane that brought me here from Kahului was named after a Hawaiian king, not Kamehameha, but someone else.
And here I am going to San Francisco, sitting next to the wing, drawing the wing. I like these drawings of the Justin Dart, very clean and linear, extremely unlike the wild edgelessness of my last Maui pictures, but an airport is very different from a jungle.
This captain has a weird sense of humor. We ran into some turbulent air and he turned OFF the fasten seat belt sign, saying this should make it smoother. He was in San Francisco earlier this evening but can’t remember what the weather was like. He thought it was a clear night, and thinks we’ll get there early if the “Frisco airport people” don’t make us delay.
Where stars on the ground
edge the dark ocean,
our plane descends.
Tuesday, March 3, 1981.
I spent the night sleeping on the bus en route from San Francisco to Garberville, where I had breakfast at the Woodrose Cafe as soon as it opened. I ran into several friends, then hitchhiked home. Cher and Clifford had already moved out, but left behind a story called “Caught Saugah” (Cat Saga), narrating of the comings and goings of my four cats, Sappho, Siren, Cinnamon, and Charcoal, as a mock-samurai adventure, beginning when “young prince Charcoal fought terrible duel with skunkasan and returned home (pew!) defeated,” including delightful sketches of the cats in Japanese costumes! They also made a recording of themselves performing this story.
Wednesday, March 4, 1981
I spent today entirely inside my house. What a bombardment to the senses this place is! All the books with their hidden offerings, the stuff I can’t find, the overflow of stuff demanding new storage space. . .
Pandanus Trees, Keanae, 1982, acrylic on canvas, 14 x 18 inches.
Kaumahina Palm, 1982, acrylic on canvas, 16 x 20 inches.
Seven Pools, 1982, acrylic on canvas, 14 x 18 inches.
Two Waterfalls, finished 2003, acrylic on canvas, 14 x 18 inches
Double Rainbow, Red Sand Beach, 2006, digital painting, photoshop file, original size 1182 x 1644 pixels, at least 10 layers.
Red Sand Beach, 2012, colored pencil drawing, 5 x 8 inches
Aa by the Sea, 2012, colored pencil drawing, 5 x 8 inches