I hope that a little time on this page will bring a smile to your face. Here you will see artwork stories that display a pursuit of joy . The buttons will link you to full stories.
"E Komo Mai" Wall Ensemble Set
E Komo Mai in Hawaiian is a common phrase of welcome, and a pineapple is a symbol of hospitality. I’ve been thinking a lot about hospitality recently.
After the isolation of the pandemic, we’ve had several trips off-island and several sets of visitors here on-island. Our most recent set of visitors was one of my husband’s former co-workers and his wife. We had the most wonderful week reconnecting and catching up with these dear friends.
In the midst of our visit I began thinking about the differences between “hospitality” and “entertaining.” A few things came to mind.
If you live in Hawaii, I’m sure you have enjoyed many ho’olaule’a! But for those of you who don't, ho’olaule’a is a big, joyful, celebration! It’s a large party, that always includes food, music and friendship. Many of us have ho’olaule’a with our ohana (family), but we also gather in even larger groups, much like you would call a “block party” on the mainland...
When Bill and I got married in the early 1980’s , his parents paid for us to have a honeymoon on the Hawaiian island of Kauai. I was young and adventurous, but I had never been anywhere. The time I had spend outside my home state could be counted in hours, and never more than one state away. Like Lucy in the movie of “While You Were Sleeping”, I had saved up and bought a passport, and carried it with me, but there were no stamps in it.
I still remember the feeling of stepping onto that 747 jet… the one I had observed and admired and wished I could travel on ever since it first came out when I was a child. I remember the feeling of being served my first real airline meal, and best of all I remember arriving in Honolulu...
The voice came from behind me (it's Melanie's husband, Bill, - standing in for the Artist today) with this unsettling question. For just a moment, I didn't know what this could possibly mean.
For quite a number of years I have done our grocery shopping. On this particular day I had gone out early to shop and was nearing the end of my grocery list standing in the dairy aisle studying the cheese options.
Due to the engaging nature of sliced cheese, I had not noticed that a kapuna of some 75 or so years was searching nearby. She pointed to the top shelf and told me that she wanted one of what looked to be a sold out item from an empty shelf. She added that she could see in a reflection from above that there was one left at the very back of the shelf. I'm not sure my arms are particularly long but in this case, they were sufficient to quickly retrieve the cheese she wanted.
I’ve had many grocery store mangoes, even here in Hawaii. But, when mango season rolls around, my mouth starts to water. There is NOTHING like a fresh ripe mango grown and picked right here on Hawaii Island. Juice pours out as you cut it. The flesh is dark orange and soft with no strings and it’s so sweet it tastes better than candy.
We have a local farmer who sells about 15 different varieties at the farmer’s market. And she’ll tell you all the differences… this one is buttery, this one is more tangy, this one has a floral undertone, this one is the sweetest. Yes, it’s like going to a coffee bar or a wine bar.
Once you taste one, you’ll know what I’m talking about. The purity of a fresh, island-grown mango reminds me of experiencing joy in the midst of the mundane, even the struggles in life.
Have you lost this joy, or know someone struggling to find joy again? It happens to me all too frequently. Sometimes it’s because….
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