Items

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  2021-03-05

  Virtual Funeral

  This is my fourth virtual funeral in less than a year. Although covid has been around for about a year, it didn't really hit home until a few short months ago. Los Angeles has been hit hard, and being from a large minority group I have lost a few people close to me. The first was my best friend's dad, then his brother, then another friend's brother. The photo is of a funeral that I am currently watching. I grew up in a large church in Los Angeles, this beautiful lady very well knew in the Hispanic Pentecostal community. She watched me grow up, attended my sweet fifteen and my wedding. She had the biggest heart and loved God fiercely. She was my mom's good friend and in January she contracted covid, by the end of the month she was gone. I've quickly realized that the only thing harder than losing so many people in such a short time span is not being able to say goodbye.
• 2020-09-09

  Skating Under A Sunless Sunset

  September 9th, 2020. The first day in years where I wake up and I am terrified by what I see: the world outside my window is drenched in orange light. I blink multiple times and bolt up, making sure I am not dreaming and that I am in complete control of my faculties. I sit in my room, stunned, for a few moments, then go about my day as usual. I peek my head outside for a moment, and smell nothing in the air. None of the smoke that had been plaguing our noses for the past few days was permitted among the copper splendor. My whole morning, I am terrified of what this could potentially mean: that the fire was close. That we could be in danger. This leaves a bad taste in my mouth for the morning. After class, I go about my normal after-school activities, gaming on my computer and playing on the guitar. At about 6 in the evening, I decide to myself “screw it.” I pick up my board, put my earbuds in, and get out of the house. The orange is dimmer, but still terrifyingly beautiful to look at. I skate around, listening to my favorite music as I observe the neighborhood around me, the same shapes with different meanings now. I dare not to pull out my phone to ruin this moment, knowing a photograph or video from it will ruin the moment for me. I stop along Mangos Drive and just sit on the curb, board behind my feet, and I stare up, hearing only my music and the occasional car passing by. A true calm, I was in, one I hadn’t been in in a long time. And so I sat there, knowing where the sun sets, but seeing no sun. I knew when it did set, but not through sight. Through feeling. The lukewarm day turned colder, the orange dimmed to a vibrant brown, and I felt phenomenal. I skated back home, not caring to check how long I’d been gone, knowing it was well worth it however much time I spent out there. I snapped out of it, and continued with the things I had been doing before, playing games and the guitar. Not once, that whole day, did I smell or taste smoke. And I am grateful for it.
• 
  05/16/2020

  Event sight left half constructed when Covid-19 hit

  This is an event sight in Pickens, SC, a place to hold weddings etc. The parts which are finished are absolutely beautiful but work stopped on the rest of the grounds when the pandemic began and one has to wonder if the need for social distancing and the economic downturn will make it impossible for the owners to continue the project. The piece of land is beautiful if scarred up at the moment and if it doesn't end up an event space it should become a park. My partner and I stumbled across it looking for a place to turn around because Table Rock State Park was at capacity. We could always use more beautiful places to spend time in nature, especially now.