Take What You Can Carry

Many years ago, when I could scarcely afford it, I went to Hawaiʻi with a good friend. We went on the cheap, which meant public beaches, local food, and very little insulation between us and the place we had actually come to visit. On the Big Island, I became acutely aware that I was not simply vacationing in some beautiful American paradise. I was a visitor in a place that had belonged to other people long before people like me began arriving. Once, we wandered onto a beach used primarily by local Hawaiians, and I have rarely felt more obviously that I did not belong somewhere. We eventually left. But the discomfort was useful. It stayed with me. 

There are places so beautiful that arrival can begin to feel almost like possession. Warm nights, perfumed air, soft sand, volcanic rock, water stretching farther than the eye can follow. We arrive, explore, take photographs, collect stories and sometimes objects, and begin speaking of a place as though discovering it gives us some claim to it. Take What You Can Carry plays with that idea. A pirate arrives in a bright coat with a bright blade and sees wealth everywhere. The islanders see home. Eventually he is told to leave, and he loads his ship with what he can take. But the song draws a distinction between what can be carried and what can actually be owned: “Gold grows heavy on the sea.”  

On that first trip, we also walked across volcanic ground so hot that it began softening the soles of my shoes. Somewhere in the middle I had the unpleasant thought of ice cracking beneath my feet. Then I noticed plants growing nearby and decided that if they could survive there, I could probably make it to the other side. I did. But before leaving Hawaiʻi, I made very sure that every stone, shell and piece of volcanic rock stayed exactly where I found it. I was not about to tempt Pele. Perhaps that is my amendment to the pirate’s instruction: take what memories you can carry. Leave what you cannot own. The island keeps the rest. 

Find more about the story here: https://pipartstudio.com/pages/take-what-you-carry

 Written by Paula Phelan, PiP Art Studio