From seed to summit: No'u Revilla poetry notecard
From seed to summit, our bones matter.
'O wai kou kupunahine?
'O ka 'āina nō. 'O ka 'āina nō.
No'u Revilla, from “Maunakea”
//
A new print releases today! Seed to Summit, by No'u Revilla. It features the last few lines of the opening poem in her book Ask the Brindled. What struck me first is the fluid, unapologetic movement between two languages, only one of which I speak. There are notes with deep reference at the back, which of course I searched out — but I love the mystery and the strength it holds. The lack of translation makes a weaving happen that reminds me of how much I don't know, and can't know. And invites me to respect it, feel it, and then get curious about it.
The notes on “Maunakea” open with this:
“In 1895, 'Ōiwi writer and newspaper editor Joseph Nāwahī asked two questions of the Kingdom of Hawai'i: 'O wai kou makuahine? (Who is your mother?) 'O wai kou kupunawahine? (Who is your grandmother?) The answer to both questions: 'O ka 'āina nō! The land, indeed.”
I didn't know when I first read the poem that Maunakea is a sacred mountain, nor that there is ongoing controversy over the degradation caused by some of the world's largest observatories located there. Wild to me, the idea that it's okay to damage the ground under our feet so we can learn more about the stars. Like so many things, I wish they weren't diametrically opposed. That wonder and care could live together, and seek to learn from those who've been on the land the longest. In her notes, No'u goes on to reference an article by Bryan Kamaoli Kuwada that I found quite moving: "We live in the future. Come join us."
Of course caring for land is future-oriented! And when you count the land as your relative, how can it not be. There's a looking back to look forward that makes so much sense to me here. I think too of the way language holds us and even before I knew what the last two lines of this piece “meant,” I felt the power of them. Also the direct translation never stuck in my head, because when I see these lines together I think about how language lives in our bones. How we can build ourselves from it, and how it builds us. All we can see, and all we can say gets framed by the words we have, or lack thereof. I'm grateful to those doing the work to share indigenous language worldviews. It matters deeply indeed if we want to imagine ways to live into the future.
I originally planned to print this excerpt with photopolymer, due to the macrons in the last line (horizontal diacritical mark that denotes long vowels). I mocked up the design on the computer and got the poet's okay and then stalled on sending it out for plates. For months. Of course a few other things were happening but mostly I could not get myself to fully commit to the design. I knew I could pull it off in metal type and in the end I did!
After setting the form twice and trying four different styles of punctuation marks, I printed the text in Perpetua and then printed the macrons on their own — a second pass through the press, hand-feeding oh so precisely for consistent alignment. I made them with 6pt News Gothic em dashes. They are not perfect but pretty darn close! I tried 8pt first, got everything lined up, and then realized I had 6pt and couldn't help checking to see if they fit slightly better and yep, they did. It was a lovely afternoon of deep fiddling that resulted in a very satisfying press run.
I am honored to share this new print, Seed to Summit, with you today and wish you much grounding and care from the smallest things to the tallest things.
//
About Noʻu Revilla
Noʻu Revilla (she / her / ʻo ia) is an ʻŌiwi poet and educator. She teaches creative writing at the University of Hawaiʻi-Mānoa and was a 2023 Poetry & the Senses Fellow with Berkeley Arts Research Center. Noʻu’s debut book Ask the Brindled (Milkweed Editions 2022) won the 2021 National Poetry Series and 2023 Balcones Prize. You can read more about her on her website here.
//
Links
Get the print here.
