It seeps in through your bare feet, through your skin exposed to the sun and rain, through all of your senses. The photographs I created while living in Maui trigger such layered memories for me. For what seem to be specks on the map, the islands hold entire mixed worlds of tradition and innovation, ecologically, socially and culturally. Microclimates and microcosms from off grid living to highrises in Honolulu. Each image holds details unseen, but hopefully sensed. The unpaved roads, the mud in the treads of my boots, the wind, the wind, the wind that carries scents of wet earth, strawberry guava, and the sea. Children I didn't know calling me auntie, elders "talking story" with no need to check the time. You'll see a rainbow every day. She invites you to slow down and use all of your senses.
Like any place where colonialism has interfered, a complicated relationship between the original people and new structures become tangled. Important cultural traditions and voices are rising up. I hope it leads to a more just balance that benefits the Hawaiians.
Respect the land. Respect traditional ways that connect a people to their home and ancestors. Be curious to learn. These are my motives.
Two different people, both descendents of the ali'i, (the nobles, or royalty of the islands), shared with me advice from their elders when they felt stuck or conflicted, "nānā i ke kumu". Seek your source. Observe the teacher. Look to the Source. They told me it reminded them to go in the ocean or walk in the forest or jungle to quiet the mind and with all of their senses - listen.