Hawaii: A Short Excerpt on my Island Adventure and how I got there…

Almost a year ago, James and I participated in a project with Meow Wolf Grapevine, where we created a costume for a runway performance. All of the wearables in the show were made from trash.

What kind of trash did we want to use? Something dystopian and cyborg-esque. Tech waste.

We wanted the project to juxtapose the nostalgia we all feel for old technology—video games, CRTVs, Nintendo DSs—with the reality that so much of this tech waste ends up in landfills. Why? Because technology is constantly upgrading. That charger you used for your iPhone? It’s no longer compatible with anything. That was the 2024 charger—I need the 2025 version now. Eventually, all of it has nowhere to go but the trash.

So we gathered as much of that old tech as we could and made a costume out of it. But it ended up being more than just a costume—it became a character. A cyborg that paid homage to Donna Haraway. The materials shaped the character’s form: a chain of Nokia cell phones became a literal chain; motherboards formed a vest; wires wrapped around my waist. The shoes were a chaotic collage of tech boards, and my head was a CRTV.

The project was such a rewarding experience. We got to meet so many people in the Dallas area pursuing fashion design. My friend, Ava, and I created the music I walked to—an eerie mishmash of sounds from Luigi’s Mansion. I modeled the costume and, honestly, I felt like I ate. After the performance, we ran around Meow Wolf in costume, drank ranch waters, and acted like hooligans. It was a great night.

I especially loved that James and I got to collaborate as a couple. It was one of our first professional contracting jobs as artists. The project stipend was small—only $300 for both of us—but we thought it was worth it. It was fun, and it was for Meow Wolf.

The performance itself felt like a celebration of diversity. There were sexy burlesque dancers, queer folks, and many costume designers honoring their Hispanic heritage through their work. At the end of the show, a woman from Southwest Airlines walked out to announce that they had sponsored the event to bring awareness to sustainable and green art-making practices. Then she said they were gifting us all free round-trip tickets to anywhere Southwest flies!!!

We were stunned. James and I looked at each other and screamed, “WE”RE GOING TO HAWAII!”

With grad school starting in the fall, this might be the only relaxing break I get until I graduate. Maybe even until I’m licensed. Who knows.

We seriously wouldn’t have been able to come here if it weren’t for that project. The fact that the tickets were a complete surprise made it all the more magical. Fast forward 11 months, and I’m sitting in our hotel lobby on the beautiful Big Island of Hawaii—Hilo, to be exact.

I’m hoping this trip will be a time to really sit with nature. To sink into it. To tap into contemplative awareness, for creating art, connecting with the world, and just being human.

Even walking out of the airport, I passed a flower bed full of plants I’d never seen before. I actually said, “Are those flowers real?” James laughed and replied, “Yes… Obviously.”

It made me laugh too. In Dallas, in my postmodernist world, if something is beautiful, it often feels fake, or like a derivative of something real. Like it’s only like the real thing. But here? It’s just… real.

I thought about the K-Cups my parents use at home. “Macadamia-flavored Hawaiian Coffee.” It tastes like plasticky coffee with some nutty powder stirred in. But this morning, sitting in the hotel lobby waiting for James, I had my first real cup of coffee here. It was in a plain white paper cup with a black plastic lid and an unbranded brown sleeve.

I expected it to be mid, but when I took a sip, it was bursting with flavor. A medium-dark roast—smooth, almost creamy. Unlike the coffee I’m used to, which can sometimes feel savory when black, this tasted more like dessert. The macadamia flavor was unmistakable and made me crave a big stack of pancakes. It was so rich and deep, fully embodying the nut itself.

It’s wild, seeing the difference between the simulation of something and the real thing.

The next day, James and I went to Ken’s House of Pancakes for a traditional Hawaiian breakfast—Loco Moco. The atmosphere was amazing. It felt like we’d time-traveled to the 1970s. It reminded me of Fire Sign Café in Tahoe City, which we visited last year. That place was in a ski town, with vintage memorabilia from the ‘70s and ‘80s—same cozy, lived-in feeling. Ken’s had the same energy. A classic building, memorabilia everywhere, likely the same family recipes, still family-owned. That’s something I look for a lot when I travel. Not only transporting a place but also time. 

I got the Vietnamese iced coffee and the Teriyaki Beef Loco Moco. James got banana pancakes and the traditional Loco Moco, one of the restaurant’s “Sumo Specials”—a food challenge. We passed on the challenge, though; we had more places to be and didn’t want to be too full to move around in the heat and humidity! We took our leftovers back to the hotel and then headed to the Bioreserve Botanical Garden.

On the drive there, I was mesmerized by the jungle surrounding us. At the reserve, I saw plants I never imagined existed. Orchids clung to the sides of trees. Every orchid I’ve ever owned has died. But here? They just generated like flowers in Minecraft.

We followed a trail that led to a small black sand beach. A rocky peninsula jutted out into the ocean. James said we should take a picture there. He set up the camera and had me stand on the tip of the peninsula, framed perfectly by the ocean.

I struck various poses, as if there was a live photographer present.

He walked up and joined me.

“Should we kiss for the photo?” I asked. We kissed.

Then he got down on one knee.

He pulled out a small box. Inside was a beautiful ring with a central diamond surrounded by a starburst of small white sapphires. Later, I learned the diamond came from his grandma Dianne’s engagement ring. She passed a few years ago, and James was devastated by her death. Having her stone made it so much more meaningful.

That feeling—“This is so magical and beautiful. Where I am, this moment, this energy... is this real?”—it felt like a dream.

Of course, I said yes.

We couldn’t have imagined that a project made from tech trash would lead us to this moment—on a black sand beach in Hawaii, engaged, swimming with sea turtles, and reflecting on everything I’m completely grateful for. I was sad to leave Hawaii of course, but couldn’t be more excited about my future. Especially one with James!!