To celebrate the upcoming release of Kīpuka: Finding Refuge in Times of Change we thought we’d share a couple of things from the issue as a sneak peek! Here’s a snapshot of some of the art and a short pandemic piece by BR renshi poet Christy Passion.
by Wooden Wave
Hawai‘i artists Roxy & Matt Ortiz shared with us this concept illustration that imagines a future reality where the traditional concept of the ahupua‘a system has been extended upward to include the heavens and stars. See photos of the finished mural in Kīpuka.
Follow Wooden Wave on social media for more fantastic artwork, or visit their webpage at: www.woodenwaveart.com
by Christy Passion
As of March 14, 2020, there are a total of 4 confirmed positive test results for COVID-19 in Hawai‘i. Two positive results were announced today for two visitors on Kaua‘i who traveled from Indiana. —State of Hawaii Department of Health
Over eggs and after a quick study of the recent numbers
my husband teases that only women, Clearly the stronger sex
should take care of COVID cases. It’s not often we get to
breakfast together, he’s been picking up more shifts, short staffed
even with all vacations cancelled. We need to laugh.
He does nights and I’m on days collectively
we puzzle the pieces of confusion that is our work in the hospital now.
We watch the crisis in NY on TV, YouTube solutions from other states
like sewing masks to slow down the hemorrhage of their N95 supply.
Our hospital isn’t there yet. On Tuesday a memo was sent out—
we are down to an eight-day ration. The MICU manager is locking
their supply in her office, the angio techs snark about washing them.
Coincidentally, during today’s press conference
the president straight-faced suggests this: washing masks.
He’s kidding right? I hear my voice echo back from the depths
of my favorite coffee mug when I ask this, I taste its disbelief
as I swallow the last of it. Evasive answers follow from the podium
about arrival dates for needed PPEs and ventilators. This will mean
more email from administration We are urging our staff to not panic.
My husband calmly munches the last of his toast no butter
We reminisce about those two patients, in mid-January
their ungodly pneumonias which didn’t make sense
100% oxygen for days and then their slow recovery Do you think?
Maybe. We hypothesize about our lingering cough last month
over the last strip of bacon. On TV more images of NY
ER doctors in fumigation respirators, a line of people extending
out and around the block in surgical masks and puffy jackets
like a horrible theme park attraction—the sky there deceptively blue.
He heads to bed as I push down the papaya rind into the trash;
his light snore from the bedroom, breadcrumbs on the kitchen floor
the TV droning on astonishingly unextraordinary, comfortable.
From Kīpuka: Finding Refuge in Times of Change (pg. 186-187)