When to open presents

24 12 2020

It’s Christmas Eve at the studio, and there are presents under the tree. DH asked me, when shall we open them? I can tell he’s excited, but we haven’t hung up our stockings yet, and it’s still daylight in the Islands. He asks, maybe one?

Some families attend Christmas Eve midnight service and open gifts after they return home from church.

Some folks wait until Christmas morning, you know, to see what Santa Claus brought. Remember to leave him a treat.

Our granddaughters are allowed to open one each at 5:30 on Christmas morning, and then they have to wait until the rest of the family gets up to open the rest.

When I was a kid, my father would count the presents under the tree addressed to him and open one a day starting that many days before Christmas Day. So, if there were five, he would start opening on December 21. Clever guy, my dad. Who’s the kid, now?

Whenever you open your presents, remember that a gift isn’t a gift until it is received. Receive with gladness and acknowledge the reason for the season.

Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas! Or, as we say in Hawaiian, Mele Kalikimaka! May all your dreams come true.

~ Rebekah 





The story of the peacock

20 05 2020

Willy

Aloha mai e studio fans ~

Today I publish for the first time “The Story of the Peacock.” I was given an assignment in my Hawaiian language class to write a story, or mo‘olelo, using action verbs in the past and present tense. I wrote it in English first. When I translate it I must follow a certain sentence pattern and avoid the verbs “to be” and “to have,” so it will not be word for word.

“The Story of the Peacock” isn’t very sophisticated, in my opinion, so I think it will make a good illustrated children’s story. Several years ago I designed bilingual books (Hawaiian/English) for an early education program. This might be a good addition to the library.

The End. Copyright 2020 Rebekah Luke

~ Rebekah





Happy Mothers Day!

10 05 2020

“Tiare in a Royal Cup,” oil on canvas by Rebekah Luke

Since the 2020 coronavirus season began, approximately, I have published to my Facebook wall one artwork of mine per day. This is fine-art posting #36, “Tiare in a Royal Cup.” Many pieces of this historical China pattern used by The Royal Hawaiian Hotel found their way to thrift shops. One time I saw a sample in a display case along the hotel corridor on the way to the Surf Room. A tiare, or Tahitian gardenia, found its way to my souvenir teacup. This painting is in my own collection. I wish Happy Mothers Day greetings to everyone! ~ Rebekah





The twelfth day of Christmas

6 01 2020

Mister Snowman and Rudolph

We let these two stay up until the twelfth day of Christmas. Rudolph has turned off his shiny nose until next year. I mua! Onward!





Spring equinox 2019 update

20 03 2019

Greetings, studio fans ~

What’s happening? For me, Spring is better than welcoming a new calendar year. I like to survey the garden around the house as well as the garden in my mind. It’s a time for trimming, plucking, and weeding out the old; and for planting new, more desirable seeds.

This morning I tended the basil, pinching off the flowers from most of the sweet herb because I want to use it instead of letting it go to seed. I left some of the flowers on the plant for the bees. Everyday I check the side yard to see if any of the avocados from my neighbor’s tree have fallen, and to pick up and toss old breadfruit leaves from the ground. I strip off the bottom layer of all the ti leaf plants that I’ve cultivated mostly to make lei. The kou tree, planted for its shade and orange lei flowers, makes a lot of rubbish with its palm-size leaves and ball-bearing-like seeds, so there’s raking to do. Looking up, I see the avocado tree is finally flowering!

Actual Ma‘afala breadfruit tree

Then, I’m revisiting the studio’s purpose “Old-fashioned letters, painting & healing.”

Letters. I’m honored to be invited to coach the Ko‘olauloa Hawaiian Civic Club members tomorrow night in writing autobiography. I intend it to be a fun activity as we write individual anecdotes and craft pretty booklets. I have chosen as jumping off points these questions: “What was your best birthday?”  “Who is your strangest family member?” “What is your greatest fear about falling in love?” “What is the craziest thing you have ever done?” And then for the brave, “How?” and “Why?”

Painting. My collage group (painting with hand-dyed paper) is exhibiting its artworks the month of April starting April 3 in the main gallery at the visitor center of Ho‘omaluhia Botanical Garden, on Luluku Road in Kaneohe, Oahu. I’ve agreed to design the look of the “Collages & Clay” that also includes ceramics. I’ll draw on the memory of observing how Susan Rogers-Aregger and Noreen Naughton placed pieces for a show.

Hand-dyed paper collage of breadfruit leaves by Rebekah Luke

Healing. It has been exciting to teach, attune, and certify five new Reiki Masters and Reiki Master Teachers. The Reiki Intensive training spands eight days, with the current program ending next Sunday with “Journey into Mastery.” I am team teaching with Reiki Master Teacher Lori A. Wong. I am reminded that “Yes! I am a Reiki Master!”

 

Aloha,

Rebekah

 





Alani

17 08 2018

Peeling an orange on a warm summer day.

Do you remember when you first learned to peel an orange? I do. I was with my Aunty Lois, and we sat down together on the steps of her back porch. When we ate it, juice ran down my arm. Funny, the things I recall.





Mourning a piano

9 08 2018

Never did I think getting rid of an old piano, the thing, would evoke such emotional feelings in me. I put it outside today, to make room for another one, a better one that was newer, shinier, and in tune.

The old piano—I didn’t name it, but it had a name. Story & Clark, and on the back of the sound board was a plaque that said it came from Aloha Piano. I had it for 50 years until today, and it traveled with me from Manoa Valley to Waikiki to Lanikai to Kaaawa.

My father, who had not supported me for several years when I was a minor, ended his silence one day by giving me 800 dollars cash. I used the money to buy the piano. I learned to play on my mother’s parlor grand. I don’t know what happened to it. The three of us went our separate ways.

Ayla’s first piano lessons were on this piano. Now 9, she played the C scale she remembered from a few lessons I gave her and got out her music book just as the piano movers arrived. They took the old piano to the roadside, brought the newer, shinier one to its place in the living room. After the moving truck left, a man came knocking at the door. A stranger.

“Why?” he asked, arms in the air. “Aren’t the keys good?” I explained some were stuck, some strings were broken, all the strings were rusty, and there had been termites in the cabinet. And that the piano tuner could no longer tune it up to concert pitch. Could he ask his friend if she would want it for her kids to plunk on? Sure, I said. She didn’t come.

Anna asks via Facebook if there are any salvageable parts for abstract wall art. Sadly, I am not that ambitious.

All afternoon kids and other passers-by have been plunking on the piano. It will be there for four more days, in the heat and the rain, before it’s taken away. I may still hear it. I’m crying.

Like an old mistress or lover, the memory will take a long time to subside.

©2018 Rebekah Luke

 








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