Tag: blog

  • Little-Known Facts About Me

    If you look back long enough, you start to notice the strange little things that were always there. Not the big milestones. Not the obvious moments. The quieter details— the ones that didn’t make sense at the time, but somehow explain everything now. I don’t usually sit around listing facts about myself. Feels a little…

  • Stories from the Edges

    On moments that were never meant to be noticed… but never forgotten. We take photos for a lot of reasons.  To remember. To hold onto something before it slips away. To capture a moment we don’t want to lose.  People take photos of everything—the big moments, the small ones, the ones that feel important, and…

  • The Longest Day – Sanitized, Signed In, and Socially Distanced

    I’ve had long days before. I mean, who hasn’t. Everyone has a horror story or two about work, some more drink worthy than others. A friend and I were recently comparing notes over coffee, as one does when caffeine doubles as a therapist. The conversation inevitably twisted itself around the question: who had the longest…

  • A Little Bit of Us in Everything

    I saw this quote today, and it resonated with me deeply:“We are writers, my love. We don’t cry. We bleed on paper.”I have no idea who wrote it, but it hit me anyway. As a creator—writer, musician, photographer, cook—it applies across the board. Our emotions are always on display through our work. Not always overtly,…

  • Meandering Toward Sense

    I got distracted and lost my chain of thought. Which is fitting. I was thinking about paradoxes… and somehow got derailed by one. I was about to create a list about things that are paradoxical, ironically ironic, awkwardly unawkward. And then I lost the list. Somewhere between “Port of Entry” and “Why do we drive…

  • Between Me and Myself

    Sometimes the quietest conversations are the ones we have with ourselves.They come in fragments—moments of memory, glimpses of people we’ve loved, the echo of a voice we thought we’d lost. This is one of those conversations. It started with a dream, a few small visits from my mom, a song that kept coming back, and…

  • Why I Create…

    Sitting with myself this morning, coffee in hand, I asked, “Why do you create?” …and the reflection in the mug stared back, quiet, like it already knew the answer before I did. “Why do you create?” I asked again, slower this time, letting the words curl in the warmth of the coffee steam. And the…

  • The Quiet Language of Making: Where Creators Speak

    I was contemplating something the other day. It came out of a very brief conversation with someone. Another writer. Just two sentences, really. Not much on the surface, but it was an exchange. More than just a quick chat. And it got me thinking. The kind of thinking that stays with you. The kind that…

  • Not Just Here, But HERE

    It started as an observation. Not a complaint — at least I don’t think it was. Why do we write referrals for things that could be solved with a conversation? A student taps a pencil too long.Another mutters under their breath.One rolls their eyes. And instead of stepping into the hallway for two minutes of…

  • Somewhere Between a Label and a Memory

    I was asked a curious question recently. It came without warning. No drumroll. No academic panel. Just a simple, almost casual inquiry that landed like a stone in still water: “Do you consider your book a piece of Chicano literature?” I smiled. I stalled. I probably said something halfway intelligent. But the truth? I didn’t…

  • Speaking Into Silence — That’s Faith with Wi-Fi

    There’s a specific type of crazy needed to be a content creator. And I mean that in the most loving way possible.  Think about it…. You sit there, just you and a camera (usually a phone) and talk to it about …stuff.  It’s one way dialogue.  Sometimes it’s live, otherwise you aren’t talking to anyone…

  • That Confident, Wet Bean

    I don’t “drink coffee.” I experience origin stories. You see, most people think coffee is just… a beverage. A tool. A caffeine delivery system. A brown emergency. I find that reductive. Coffee is an agricultural narrative. These are not “beans.” They are seeds—hand-harvested at altitude, kissed by volcanic soil, slow-dried under ethically ambiguous sunshine. When…

  • So What Now?

    I’ve always been a reflective one. Mostly introverted… which is, in my somewhat isolated opinion, weird for a hyperactive, over-caffeinated individual such as me. You’d think someone constantly vibrating at espresso-level frequency wouldn’t spend so much time quietly staring into space. But I do. A lot. At home, on quiet weekend mornings with coffee in…

  • On Writing, Remembering, and Talking Too Long

    There’s a particular kind of conversation that only seems to happen after you’ve written a book. Not during interviews. Not in those polite, well-lit moments where someone asks, “So what’s it about?” and you give the version you’ve rehearsed in the mirror. I’m talking about the real conversations—the ones that happen over sips of coffee…

  • Nostalgia on a Stick

    Growing up, summer in Calexico had its own soundtrack—somewhere a screen door slammed, a dog barked three streets over, and a radio played Ramón Ayala so faintly you couldn’t tell if it was next door or two blocks over. The air already smelled like heat—dust, sun-baked asphalt, and tortillas puffing on the comal in someone’s…