Impressions by Andrew Huston
On our first morning at last November’s Summit at Common Ground on Kauai, all the participants were gently separated into smaller groups for a Piko welcome in the land and spirit of the place. I am not used to that manner of group-therapy-vibe which quickly initiated a feeling of dread. Fearful that my outsider artist stance was under immediate threat, I was quickly put at ease when the spoken words were to my surprise so authentic and gentle in the air, while the sublime beauty of the lush landscape embraced us. I witnessed my city posture and guarded stance fade away along with jumbled jet lagged anxieties of my proposals for my small part in the Summit, just as the birds’ song and sweet breeze graced us all. That switch from armored and guarded sceptic to an open and receptive individual amongst a crowd of new friends set the tone for the next four days. It may well have had something to do with the odd sensation that all those people who were still strangers that morning, seemed like past acquaintances. Nor can I rule out the possibility that the early morning swim in Hanalai Bay may have sweetened the mood. Down the road and across the river is the half moon bay, one of the island’s sublime geographical sites cradled into the green ribbed cliffs of Nāmolokama, Hīhīmanu and Māmalahoa. Like two hands cupping an emerald ocean on the edge of the universe, as if drawn by a compass in perfect axis from East to West. I dove in. The perfect three-foot peeling waves, having traveled a few thousand miles to offer me a ride back to the beach after a blissful swim. No crowds, no threats, no chills, just an Aloha. First question: by what magic did I land here? Second question: Am I running late?
It becomes quickly apparent that there is nothing common about Common Ground. Shared breath greeting with a horse is not an everyday event. Star gazing with an astronaut is another unlikely experience and sitting on a stage with a shark attack survivor who advocates for sharks and learning the fundamentals of percussion with a giant of jazz, Billy Martin, are moments to hold onto for life.