The Hina tribe lived in the archipelago where the wind and water over the land touched at the same time. Their rituals were vital; every day, the elders of the tribe danced so that feelings would not dry up and affect the fruits that lived in peace. They knew very well that only through dance could they remember the beauty of love.

Among them was Manu (Pájaro/Bird), a strong man with the sea tattooed on his skin, but with a silent piano in his soul. Manu had forgotten the art of fluidity.

During the morning dance, Manu moved with the stiffness of a wooden statue.

—Dad! You look like a frightened crab! —exclaimed Leilani (Guirnalda celestial/Celestial Garland), his small daughter, with a laughter so contagious it made the coconut trees tremble—. Relax, it's supposed to be fun!

Manu tried to imitate the elders but tripped over himself. Leilani, with that disarming innocence, threw a handful of wet sand at him.

—That's the sand your heart needs, Dad! You need the humidity!

Only with this constant help could they keep their homes touching the sky. The help was unique, like the eggs that fed the path and were only received through the window where the Muse came out to converse.

The Muse, named Aolani ("Celestial Cloud"), often asked about the girl who played with joy.

—She could well be your sister, your cousin, or your relative —Manu replied to Aolani, observing Leilani, the bearer of happiness.

Manu knew that the little girl was more than a message: she was a mirror of the dreams he had forgotten to conquer as a boy, like the piano he once wanted to learn to play, for which only a little practice was vital.

The duality in Manu’s life was like the symbol of infinity: two faces of fish joined by their tail. This manifested on November 27th.

After talking with a friend and watching him quickly cross his path, Manu immersed himself in the shared waters. He was no longer seeking stiffness; now he sought fluidity.

—"Everything happens in its own time" —Manu thought.

He knew that wherever he went, he would always have a community that did not need doors to enter. This was how he shared in the air, as in the sea; both were his home. There was no longer any date or fear that could mark him.

The art of Leilani’s dance had achieved what the years had not: reconciling Manu with his own inspiration. The little girl was the key to the inspiration that would open the door of the seven languages he once thought he had forgotten.

P.S. The horizon is not a line that divides the sky and the sea; it is the promise that both worlds, the one you breathe and the one you sail, are the same home.

The Hina tribe lived in the archipelago where the wind and water over the land touched at the same time. Their rituals were vital; every day, the elders of the tribe danced so that feelings would not dry up and affect the fruits that lived in peace. They knew very well that only through dance could they remember the beauty of love.

Among them was Manu (Pájaro/Bird), a strong man with the sea tattooed on his skin, but with a silent piano in his soul. Manu had forgotten the art of fluidity.

During the morning dance, Manu moved with the stiffness of a wooden statue.

—Dad! You look like a frightened crab! —exclaimed Leilani (Guirnalda celestial/Celestial Garland), his small daughter, with a laughter so contagious it made the coconut trees tremble—. Relax, it's supposed to be fun!

Manu tried to imitate the elders but tripped over himself. Leilani, with that disarming innocence, threw a handful of wet sand at him.

—That's the sand your heart needs, Dad! You need the humidity!

Only with this constant help could they keep their homes touching the sky. The help was unique, like the eggs that fed the path and were only received through the window where the Muse came out to converse.

The Muse, named Aolani ("Celestial Cloud"), often asked about the girl who played with joy.

—She could well be your sister, your cousin, or your relative —Manu replied to Aolani, observing Leilani, the bearer of happiness.

Manu knew that the little girl was more than a message: she was a mirror of the dreams he had forgotten to conquer as a boy, like the piano he once wanted to learn to play, for which only a little practice was vital.

The duality in Manu’s life was like the symbol of infinity: two faces of fish joined by their tail. This manifested on November 27th.

After talking with a friend and watching him quickly cross his path, Manu immersed himself in the shared waters. He was no longer seeking stiffness; now he sought fluidity.

—"Everything happens in its own time" —Manu thought.

He knew that wherever he went, he would always have a community that did not need doors to enter. This was how he shared in the air, as in the sea; both were his home. There was no longer any date or fear that could mark him.

The art of Leilani’s dance had achieved what the years had not: reconciling Manu with his own inspiration. The little girl was the key to the inspiration that would open the door of the seven languages he once thought he had forgotten.

P.S. The horizon is not a line that divides the sky and the sea; it is the promise that both worlds, the one you breathe and the one you sail, are the same home.