…across the way, the divide,
I could have seen your loft had I known,
or understood, or cared in new york city
and now I begin to understand your genius,
the journey you took from far to near,
and back again...
…the plumbobs, so cool to touch,
lived nearby in chuuk,
in my friend’s house,
where I learnt of art and of artists
we played with those creamy ceramic orbs
reconstructing their view
as our daily emotions guided us to create…
…a lily-haired woman sat in the dark
in a drawer in aiea heights
and has now emerged to flaunt her beauty
along with her flower-haired sisters…
...totems, totems everywhere;
muted colors rampantly stacked
stark symbol upon symbol,
thought upon thought, texture overlying texture...
…a pipe sculpture contracts/expands at will,
our will, to conquer space;
contained yet reaching ever outward
and now it sits imprisoned in a lucite cube,
downtown honolulu awaiting its february escape…
...the ceramic pieces I knew not then
but do enjoy their place in your history
fashion comes as art-fashion wanes
but your outcomes will ever remain…
…and now my pride and joy,
the little man who peeks at me
in my cottage in a cooler clime
as his big brother sits upon this museum wall
reminding us of the duality of life…
…this museum display will soon be replaced
but memories of you, kobashi,
and aiea and chuuk remain for me…
blognote: The pieces belong to a friend and I am familiar with so many of them as they hung in his home in the Pacific.
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