Tag: love
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Between Tradition and Memory: A Mariachazo Reflection
We’ve all been to concerts. We all know what it feels like to sit in a crowd, to wait for the first note, to remember pieces of music long after the night ends. We all carry our own memories of them—the sound, the crowd, the moments that stay with us in different ways. But Mariachazo…
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Life Is A Notebook
I came across this idea the other day, and it stayed with me longer than I expected— the kind of thought that doesn’t just pass through, but settles in. Maybe it’s the way we hold onto moments—like scraps of paper, like old notebooks tucked away in drawers. Every now and then, something reminds you that…
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Mariachi Me… Same Traje, Different Mileage
Being a Mariachi isn’t just about the music. It’s about what you carry before you ever play a note. The traje—sharp, tailored, unmistakable—has a way of teaching you that. At first, it feels like a costume. Something you put on to look the part. The shine, the stitching, the silver botonadura, the way it commands…
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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…
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No Schedule, Just Sunlight and Shortcuts to Nowhere
I grew up in the 70s and 80s, in a city that felt like it was still learning its own edges. Streets weren’t lined with development yet, and blank spaces—lots of dirt, weeds, and sun-baked patches of ground—were waiting for someone to claim them. We claimed them. We ran through them. We made trails, shortcuts,…
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Scraped Knees and Torn Jeans
There was a time when play was king—not the quiet, sit-down kind, but the loud, dusty, borderline-dangerous kind that required sunscreen you never used and rules you barely followed. It was the kind of play that guaranteed you’d come home a different person than when you left… mostly because parts of you were now missing…
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Throwing Words Into the Wind
Let me tell you a story…something I learned about myself, and only fully recently acknowledged. This won’t be a confession of weakness, nor a tale of courage or inner strength. Those are just labels. And the truth is, labels are strangers to far more people like me than most realize. If anything, this story is…
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Beer Sunset…
The kind where the day exhales slowly, where the bottle sweats in your hand like it’s been working just as hard as you have, and the sky turns that dusty orange you only notice when you finally stop moving. It’s porch steps and quiet conversations. It’s the hum of distant traffic mixing with crickets warming…
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Out of the Dark to Find Me Again
So last night, I had a realization. Not one of those cinematic, lightning-strikes-the-soul kind of realizations. No dramatic music, no sudden gasp into the void. More like… sitting there, minding my business, and boom—my brain quietly taps me on the shoulder like, “Hey… you good?” And apparently, I wasn’t. Or at least, my writing wasn’t.…
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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…
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A Curious Observation…
Messaging on multiple platforms… something a little different on each… but somehow threaded together. An interesting way to connect. It’s fascinating—and honestly, pretty human. Different platforms invite different versions of us. A text might be quick and practical. A voice note carries tone and warmth. A social post might lean reflective or curated. Even timing…
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The Burden of Grief
This comes not as a confession, but as a quiet observation—drawn from conversations with those who have known loss, who have carried grief quietly and persistently. Grief is both deeply personal and inherently human, connecting us even as we navigate it alone. It is born of shared experience, of listening, of trying to understand. What…
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Fire and Grace
There are things that will make you angry. You’re human. It’s inevitable. Something, somewhere, sometime is going to piss you off. It’s going to happen. What really matters is how you respond. I was faced with that today. Let me provide a little context. Like countless others, I’m susceptible to outside forces—things that can alter…
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The Ones Who Remain in the Landscape
Life seems to follow its own quiet algorithm. The humans in our lives are much the same. The ebb and flow of everyday living moves so naturally that we rarely notice the subtle shifts—the people and places that slowly drift into our lives, and just as quietly drift away. Most of the time it happens…
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