
so here is proof that i actually was in "paradise" although it looks like something more out of us weekly.
let me for one moment unpack my two refernces in that last sentence. the first was to an episode of this american life where ira glass aptly points out that every time the word hawaii is mentioned, everyone's response is "ooh, that's paradise." how the very idea of hawaii has defined our notion of paradise without any first hand experince of it. it's something that has just seeped into our cultural consciousness, been accepted as fact and never again questioned or compaired with its actuallity. before visiting, this is what i found problematic about the place. well, i am here to tell you that it really is paradise.
since returning home, i've been rereading some joan didion, especially her work on honolulu. she had a very strong attachemnt with the actual place, one that i can very much relate to. in her essay "letter from paradise" in "Slouching Towards Bethlehem," she writes,
"I went a wary visitor. I do not believe that the stories told of lovely hula hands merit extensive study. I have never heard a Hawaiian word, including and perhaps most particularly aloha, which accurately expressed anything I had to say. I have neither enought capacity for surprise nor enough heart for twice-told tales to make you listen again to tedious vignettes about Midwesterners in souvenir shirts and touring widows in muumus and simulated pearls . . . And so, now that it is on the line between us that I lack all temperment for paradise, real or facsimile, I am going to find it difficult to tell you precisely why Hawaii moves me, touches me, saddens and troubles and engages my imagination, what it is in the air that will linger long after I have forgotten the smell of pikake and pineapple and the way the palms sound in the trade winds."
And my second refernce in that first sentence, is of course, to the notoriously sleezy, yet always addicting gossip mag, us weekly. you know where they have the "candid" shot of someone like cameron diaz running on the beach looking "just like us" or at least appearing to be having a good time. that's what this picture reminds me of. except, that i was really was having a good time,
i am starting to feel like most of my 'real' experience are mediated through some kind of representation of the experience. like when you see a live elephant for the first time and it is striking how much it resembles the elephants in photographs.
















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