I was on stage. In Beijing. In front of about 400 young Chinese kids. It was June 10, 2011, and the city’s swampy mixture of pollution, dust, and air had me sweating through my tank top at Tango, the mega-club next door to Jin Ding Xuan.
You know what freedom feels like? It feels like jerking awake with the gut-wrenching realization that I have no one to blame but myself.
My last morning in Hawai'i dawned lush and bright, like every morning of the previous five weeks. As I splashed water on my face, looking out over the small town of Hilo, I thought back on my unexpected journey to the Big Island.