Jackie Pias Carlin

It was a whirlwind vacation, planned months ahead and set on seeing the Southwest again. I had been away too long. A friend, Carol, and I spent six nights in Santa Fe, New Mexico, just enough time to soak in some opera, walk through the annual Indian Market and cruise nearby towns. And oh yes, we bought stuff and ate at some really good restaurants.

The Santa Fe Opera presents a new season every year for two months in the summer. This year, we  saw Charles Gounod’s Faust, Antonio Vivaldi’s Griselda and Gian Carlo Menotti’s The Last Savage. The other two operas were Giocomo Puccini’s La Boheme and Alban Berg’s Wozzeck.

I am a novice at opera, but I love the entire theater experience-its music, voices, costumes and the set. Sometimes the plot is overly ridiculous or tedious, but I remind myself that these operas were written in another century. It really helps when an interpreter  screen is built in behind every seat such as it is at the Santa Fe Opera House.

The opera house is semi-opened to the weather’s elements. There are slivers of horizon-to-sky on either side of the stage that allow glorious golds, brilliant scarlets and deep purples to illuminate behind silver clouds at sunset, fading just as the stage lights appear.

Twice while a diva and divo(?) sang their arias about heart break and grief, thunder and lightning commenced as if they were cued. One wonders what music does to the weather.

The weather cleared up during the day for Indian Market. Native American tribes from New Mexico and surrounding states come together to show and sell their crafts for two days in August. The Old Town in Santa Fe becomes walking traffic only, and the vendors set up tables on the sidewalks and in the Eldorado Hotel. Spectators walk around with their enormous turquoise and silver jewelry from past markets. The buying is usually vigorous, but this year seemed quiet-possibly due to the recession.

I was disappointed at the contrasting prices and quality of the wares this year. A pink shell one strand necklace, each shell beautifully matched, made by a seasoned jeweler went for $100. A pink shell three strand necklace on the street cost $35 by a younger vendor. I couldn’t tell the difference up close, but the extreme prices prevented me from purchasing one. Don’t get me wrong, there were a handful of artisans that made beautiful work. I couldn’t resist a pair of silver, onyx, turquoise and colored stone earrings handmade by Navajo Gerald Begay. His work was among the best I saw this year. Carol could not help herself either. She owns a delightful silver dragon fly with turquoise crafted by the same artist.

Among the pieces that I wished I had bought but did not, was a fetish carved from pink coral. It was of a woman and a little child standing back to back to each other. It touched my heart, but it couldn’t reach my wallet.

Aside from spending money, we visited Abiquiu where Georgia O’Keefe found inspiration for her paintings. We had lunch at the Abiquiu Inn where the trout was excellent. That may be the only restaurant in Abiquiu. Robert Redford dropped in for a toilet stop the last time I was there.

 I needed one more glimpse of Cerro Pedernal, a flat top butte in Northern New Mexico. This formation gives me spiritual energy every time I am near it-but never close enough.

Our last full day was spent in Taos, New Mexico. Very quaint and laid-back, the town was very quiet. Some shops and restaurants had changed hands or left completely. A historical site, Taos Inn, no longer sold caps. Its Adobe Bar that served famous margaritas was empty. I was sad. Taos had lost its spriteful energy, but hopefully not for long. We had lunch at Doc Martin’s. My local beet salad was refreshing.

We drove to the Taos Pueblo. Our guide was a young man by the name of Cameron. Carol remembers his last name, I don’t. He attended the University of Hawai`i for a couple of years and absorbed himself in ethnic studies. He then realized he needed to return to his Taos roots. I could relate to that, having attended a Culture, Autobiography and Ethnicity class in Santa Fe in 2002, I was determined to return to Maui and promote autobiographical writing. (Since then, I give workshops at the Kaunoa Senior Center on Maui.)

We sat by the stream that flows from Blue Lake, and contemplated our week in New Mexico, the land of enchantment. After experiencing a release of physical stress from my nerve endings, I realized why I love New Mexico. The land, air and sky always seem to balance me out. There are good and nurturing spirits there in New Mexico. I feel like the world is OK, and my life is going the way it is meant to be.

On the way out of Taos toward Santa Fe, we stopped at the Steak House for dinner. The restaurant sits all alone in the surrounding hills overlooking Taos and everything to the horizon. We shared squash flowers, elk filet with blueberry sauce and kobi beef filet with truffle oil sauce, and very dry martinis.

Not to forget the other places we sampled, The Ore House is one of my favorites. Yes, I should have taken photos of the food we ordered, but I didn’t. I remembered La Casa Sena from my other visits, but this time, the service was lousy. Next time, I do want to visit Pasquals, Gabriel’s and Tomasinas.

I’m looking forward to returning to New Mexico. Maybe next time I’ll drive to Roswell.

Thank you for visiting my blog site. I also visited yours, and I am overwhelmed with the choices and individuality of each site. The information is endless.

The discussion that I posted on linkedin.com generated so many responses. You’ve taught me new strategies and reminded me of the old ones. In turn, I hope that you all benefit from the new connections you’ve made through Linkedin.com and the group, Aspiring Writers Blog.

Since the turn of the century, I’ve been playing with websites and blogs. My present website is fairly new. Not flashy at all. It’s pretty much to the point or two.  http://jackiepiascarlin.com. Make a choice when you get there.

The blog for my latest book (coming out this month) is http://rightfulidentity.wordpress.com

The comment button is now on in this blog site, so feel free to leave one. Thank you again.

Rightful Identity is on its way to the public. Free ebook copies will be available in August, 2011. If you’d like a copy, just let me know.

I’ve also started a new blog dedicated to the book at http://rightfulidentity.wordpress.com. Don’t ask me why I changed websites, it’s just one of those creative things, I guess.

Someone asked for advice about what to do for publishing. He just wrote a story and wants it published. There are so many options these days, but if you’re new to publishing, it’s a good idea to learn how publishing works.

Have some fun while learning. Sign up for a writers conference near you or where you’d like to spend a weeks vacation. My fiction was first read and reviewed in a workshop by Justin Cronin and four fellow writers. I also had a great week in Taos, New Mexico while I received help with my book. www.unm.edu/~taosconf/

If New Mexico isn’t your idea of fun, peruse through Poets & Writers from a bookstore or visit its website: http://pw.org. Your library may have its back issues, too. Every year it lists writers conferences throughout the country and elsewhere.

If you prefer to stay at home, the June/July issue lists agents to contact. Many top publishing houses prefer to be contacted by agents.

Then there is the ebook. You can publish an ebook for free at smashwords.com.

You can also self-publish in traditional form if you would like to see your project through the entire process. The best guide to follow is Dan Poynter’s The Self-Publishing Manual. He also gives workshops throughout the world. http://parapub.com. In fact, this book answers all the guess work about publishing.

I published my first book after it sat for a year on a publisher’s desk. This year, my second book comes out in ebook form in August. http://jackiepiascarlin.com. I am also querying agents to represent me in the wide world of big name publishing houses.

I know I’m procrastinating when I choose to blog instead of working on what’s on my agenda for the day.

Or I am warming up. I like knowing that I am warming up.

It is horrifying what Japan is going through after March 10th’s catastrophe and present suffering.

Here on Maui, we were alerted at about 11:00 p.m. HST to prepare evacuation. We live a block away from the ocean, and my biggest concern was getting out of our neighborhood as soon as possible. I remember in the 80s, when we couldn’t get out of Kihei during a brush fire that started across the highway, and then jumped into the dry field next to our house we lived in then. A big explosion showered debris over us as we ran to shelter. I ended up under a car to get away from the falling rocks.

When we were finally able to get into the sojourn of vehicles out of Kihei, I was glad that it wasn’t a tsunami we were running from. We wouldn’t have made it. Traffic was really slow getting out.

Now thirty years later, our neighborhood streets exit only to South Kihei Road. South Kihei Road has maybe four main exits that can take this entire town to HWY 31 or Piilani Highway. When on HYW 31, there are two choices-drive out of Kihei or go uphill.

In any case, I’m always leery about getting out of Kihei in time. So I want to leave early-no matter how small the emergency.

Last Thursday night, we only had to drive to a friend’s house, located at a higher elevation than where we live. It turns out that the waves that hit Maui were ripples that had the force of water leisurely falling into a bubble bath. Not too strong. Our neighbors watched the water recede and surge at Cove Park, where earlier the ocean had washed through Kalama Park, passed our neighborhood supermarket, and only lapped our street with salt.

Nevertheless, I have experienced some close calls from Nature this year, 2011. In January, for instance, our house was flooded by a thunderous downpour coming from the higher elevations of Upcountry Maui. It was only minutes after I had gone to the bathroom and back, when my partner shouted, “We’re being flooded!” The gullies that allow rains to flow naturally into the ocean were blocked by humankind’s trash and thoughtless development. Parts of our neighborhood were covered with mud, sludge and trash. Not to mention the interior of our house.

We watched the dirty water drop through the lower windows, situated about 12 ft above the ground. Since we live in tropical weather, our windows have screens but no glass, so the water freely fell through the screens with the force of waterfalls one sees when driving to Hana. The water seeped under our doors. At one point, the force of the water had pushed our electric front gate off its track. Our back fence had already fallen over. When last I checked, the water in the house was just about to reach my knees.

I felt helpless.

Firemen came by with flashlights and rubber boots, wondering what we were doing here. They thought we would have left already. I asked, “Where would we go, and how could we?” We couldn’t get out of the neighborhood even if we tried. Our street had turned into a river. Metal covers had bounced off manholes. Imagine if a small animal or person had gotten trapped in that current.

When dawn came, the waters had slowed down, but still flowed. We took brooms and mops and shoved the water out of the house-this took all morning. By lunchtime, all was left was chocolaty brown mud, everywhere.

I pushed shiny thick mud out of the house onto the driveway with a wet mop. By evening, all was left was soaked furniture, ruined photos, dirty towels, mud stained rugs, and dampened egos. My boss, Tom Seif, came over to help clean. Friends, Mel and Mickey Ross, came over to see if we were really OK, because David said we were.  They saw with their own eyes, and started something I had never expected.

The next day, they brought with them about nine more people from the  6:00 a.m. team of the Maui Paddling Club, and commenced to cleaning up. The women appointed themselves to rooms of their own, went on their knees with rags and buckets, and scrubbed. When they brought out toothbrushes to get into the corners and crevices, I was humbled. Outside, the men hauled away buckets, bottles, plants, lumber and loose items that came in with the flood. I had never seen such a deplorable mess in the garage, backyard and driveway.

Since last week’s earthquakes and tsunamis, I remember my flood experience and multiply it by ten thousand. Thousands of Japanese are being affected emotionally, physically and spiritually right now. I can only feel the emotions I felt when our house was flooded-miserable and depressed, but astounded by the friends who helped.

The only thing I can think of doing to help Japan and its people, at the moment, is donating to the American Red Cross. If you know of anything else we can do, other than pray and send good thoughts, let me know.

Read more reactions:  http://seentheelephant.blogspot.com

This year is faster than others, have you noticed?

Since my last post, I have completed my manuscript, and it’s a novella, Rightful Identity, with a little more than 100 pages in ebook format. It could turn out more pages if it becomes a published paper book, but that’s further down the road.

Rightful Identity reveals the intimate lives of three local kids growing up in Hawaii. With backgrounds of broken families and single parents, the friends work out their own problems with island moxie, each other’s support, and sometimes without. Just beyond their reach, the island of Kahoolawe is a constant spiritual source, gaining acknowledgement for what it truly is. Rightful Identity is filled with island lore, spirits, and the coming of age.

At the end of last year, I signed up as lecturer for a UHMaui College course, Literature of Hawaii. Unfortunately, it wasn’t on the roster until the very last minute, and the class did not get the required enrollment. We hope that this coming Fall Semester has better enrollment. Cross your fingers. Personally, a class of five students is my preference, but colleges need money, too.

I had the experience of being in a class of five studying John Milton’s Paradise Lost in Oxford, England. We sat in cozy plump sofas, or on oriental rugs on the floor of the professor’s office overlooking a misty soccer field. The discussions were always intimate, and most of the time our arguments brought out the best of us through our views of religion, politics and community. It was the most memorable class in my post graduate studies. We were the envy of our fellow students that year.

This week, I’m entering another watercolor in the juried Art Maui 2011. I’ll let you know if it gets in.

It’s already the end of October, and another year is about to pass. Time flew.

Additions to my watercolor inventory are ready for 2011 when I’ll be adding more prints to my line of greeting cards and giclee prints for interior spaces. The present line of cards and available prints are viewed at http://mauiartist.etsy.com.

Hana Coast Gallery in the Hotel Hana Maui, and Swan Interiors on the corner of Vineyard and Church Street in Wailuku carry my original watercolors and prints.

On November 5, 6 and 7, 2010, I’ll be at the Great Craft Festival in Las Vegas, Nevada.

I’m still rewriting my second book. Unfortunately, it’s not near completion as I think it is.

In January, I’m pursuing something new, but old. No, it’s not a marriage.

As soon as I typed the title of this post, the return button from an old electric typewriter appeared in my mind. Remember, also, that lever on the manual typewriters? Every line was a new experience.

Nowadays, the computer screen is a whole white (or grayish) page that gives us the ability to read our words without rolling the paper up or down.

Just a thought.

We returned to Maui a few weeks ago. The island was (and is) dry and hot. My backyard, especially the garden area, was disappointingly raw sienna (not green) since it did not get enough water from the sprinklers. My orchids lived through the vacation. They’re beautiful but I can’t eat them.

The evolution of our backyard happens with our life changes. Whatever can survive back there without our constant monitoring, survives. I am surprised, though, how the older trees are not doing as well as they did. Take the coconut tree that is about 30-40 ft. tall after ten years of unmonitored growth. Its drying up. This is sure evidence of our low aquifer water levels.

If I could roll back the time, I would have directed the water sprinklers to a wider area. I would have brought the tomato plants closer to the water source. I could have saved my herb garden. The paper on my old typewriter-I could roll it back and “white-out” the things I didn’t like. I can’t do that with my backyard. The page on my computer screen helps me vent, though-makes a good post on my blog, for sure.

We are thinking about replanting with Hawaiian plants that are water resistant. But wait, I thought coconut trees were water resistant.

It came to my attention that the time between posts vary according to my schedule. Obviously, I’ve been doing quite a bit lately since my last blog.

Almost a month has gone by, and I can’t recall why time flew by so fast. So I checked my journal and reread some of the entries.

During the last month, I got motivated and continued my manuscript’s rewriting. I’m still struggling with its structure, so the next thing I’m planning to do is rewrite the synopsis as well. The trouble is, I keep changing the ending, or the ending keeps changing because the main character grows stronger.

I also completed watercolors for my inventory. The results are five vibrant watercolors from which I will choose three for the giclee process. For the holidays, they will become art reprints and note cards. If you’re interested in seeing these, please visit: www.mauiartist.etsy.com.

Let me know if you like them.