GLYPH

Tuesday, March 19, 2013.  The lava fields around the active volcano on Hawaii.  A spiritual place, a holy place, a place where people went to commune with the ancestors and to continue their line.  I saw this around Kona, in shops, and then I saw this on the lava field.  Rough, minimal, meaningful.

TIKI

 

Monday, March 87, 2013.  We stand tall, we stand here, we are here.  What carver dreamed about these, and gave each of them their unique countenance?  They stand on sacred ground.  They stand at the Place of Refuge.  I wonder if they are here to warn me from seeking refuge or to warn others from violating the refuge they provide. 

WEEPING FACE

Sunday, March 17, 2013.  He guards the spot of remembrance for children swept away by tsunami.  His grimace, is it to prevent his stone face from shedding tears, or is to scowl at the ocean as a reprimand or as disapproval?  His visage does not say to come here lightly, but to come here and consider what happened.  We do.  We think about the power of water, and we watch it at this site.

NAILS ON WOOD

Saturday, March 16, 2013.  Metal and wood figures in a lot of work I see.  Central Park's trees try to incorporate metal that they come in contact with and encircle it, to hide it, to include it.  This post cannot grow, the staples and nails are there, visible, permanent, unless someone removes them.  They are a testament to the utility of this post as a communications tool.  Over and over messages were left and removed, read and destroyed, remembered and forgotten.

COFFEE TREE

Friday, March 15, 2013.  What a beauty at 100+ years.  This old coffee tree is one of the originals at a plantation in Kona, Hawaii.  The trunk twisted and thick, spotted with lichen, sprouting a few leaves, trimmed of its many branches.  It is no longer fruiting, but a testament to nature.

HOMAGE

Wednesday, March 13, 2013.  Palau.  I can never look at fowl without thinking of Jakuchu's Colorful Realm.  This particular rooster was in Palau, part of Micronesia, preening in the early morning sun, before I left to dive far out in the Pacific.  He was a beauty.  His contortion turns him into a ball, with a tail, seeing where he has been but not where he is going to.