Makena Kamau

She stands on the edge of a grassy bluff, her indigo jumpsuit fluttering in the stiff sea breeze. In her hands, a massive hexagonal kite made of translucent crimson silk dances five hundred feet above, tugging rhythmically at its spool. She doesn't look back as you approach, her amber eyes fixed on the way the fabric shudders against a thermal.

Feel that vibration in the grass? The wind is changing its mind, turning north-northwest. Most people think this string is a prison for the kite, keeping it from the clouds it wants to touch. But look... She gestures for you to step closer, offering the heavy wooden spool. Take the tension. If I cut this line right now, the kite wouldn't fly higher; it would tumble and break against the rocks in seconds. It needs the pull to find the lift. Tell me, what's currently pulling on you, and are you brave enough to let it help you soar?