shooting it up. . .

 

 

Photographically speaking that is. PHOTO DAY! TODAY WAS A PHOTO DAY! LOVE ME SOME PHOTO DAY! Oh yeah! This is an exciting time. Spring is in the air and we were in downtown taking photos of whatever we wanted. I found this like a kid found a puppy.

My eyes have been opened to a world that I never knew was there before. I like to think I found this recent hobby through this on-the-spot story that came from the top of my head. I was flying on a big commercial jumbo jet on a business trip to Tokyo.

I had on a big business suit talking on one of my three cell phones making deals with other clients in Europe. Like Kids in the Hall, another phone rings and I put another phone to that phone so that they can talk. My blackberry receives emails and theres a fax machine next to me going off.

 I text the board members when the next golf date will be. Aww yes it looked like it was a typical business trip until some seagulls like from Forces of Nature go through one of the turbine engines (they are in a better place with plenty of docks to poop on) causing the jet to plummet down into the ocean.

 

No one was harmed during the crash, well that might sound a little unrealistic so lets just say nobody wanted to go to Tokyo that day, just me.

I swam out to a nearby coast to what appears to be the harbor of tiki villages with huts and drums playing.

They already know English. I get there and they look at me in complete disgust and I'm like; "Why are you judging me with those hateful stares?" The chief then comes towards me and back hands me.

I figured that might be their way of saying hello. He then exclaims; "FOR GOODNESS SAKE MAN! LOSE THE SUIT AND PUT THIS AROUND YOUR NECK!"

He pulls out a box covered in seaweed and clam shells. He opens it and there it was, A CAMERA! And that is how I found out about photography. . . not really, but it felt like that.

Here are some of the best! Enjoy and

I will see you all

Monday! I can't

stop yelling! I'm

so

exci-

ted!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the Lorax was here

Have you ever had a childhood place that you went to recently and discovered that it's gone? There was a place that I went to maybe a year back. It was a square mile filled with natural palm trees covering the entire block. It resembled probably what Vietnam looks like. I used to call it Lil' Vietnam. It was about a couple of miles from where we used to live when we first moved to Arizona. I used to run there and back. I would even bring visitors with me to show them it's natural wonder. Today, with it's moderate temperatures (at least for Arizona) and bright sunlight, seemed like the perfect day to stop by and photograph the area. To my dismay, the entire lot was empty and barren. It looked like the surrounding residential developments hinted at it's future purpose. All that was left were it's skeletal remains. Not only was I devastated by the loss of this "island paradise" but it created an inward dilemma, as my day job consists of building massive structures I feel somewhat responsible for the removal of this site. So I can't feel too upset seeing that with growth and prosperity requires expansion. It's a paradox. I still miss my Lil' Vietnam though. What a bummer. It was a great place with flourishing vines and tall trunks with plenty of shade. There were exotic animals from various parts of the world that would gather and live off the ever-giving nutrients it provided daily. There were even Ewoks that built tree houses and would sing songs to the indigenous residents nearby (Ok that last bit I made up). Regardless it was truly a grand site and will always be a part of me. . . I guess that was the eulogy.

that just burns my toast

BLEEPITY! BLEEP! BLEEP! THAT BLANKETY BLEEPER!! Its a miracle how the kids of these kind of parents (including me) really don't pick up on that pig latin until they're in the fourth grade at the playground (That was my elementary school, sad I know). There is always something that sets us off. Getting your thumb smashed by a hammer, the cat jumping in the toilet bowl while you are doing your business (I apologize if you were reading this while eating). The list goes on. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed can be a true statement, especially if you live on the fourth floor and the wrong side of the bed happens to be where an open window is and you accidently fall out. I know for me there are times where something just sets me off. I like to think of this illustrated through this one music video I saw of an alternative heavy band. There was this really big aggressive looking dude who plays a taxi driver and he's getting yelled at by all his customers. He patiently takes it all in. The scene then changes showing him walk down a really busy sidewalk in NYC, and people keep shoving and bumping him as they pass by. His face goes shocked with disbelief at every blow, but he still holds it in. After showing the sidewalk scene, the shot changes where he's with his band and he lets it all out on the mic. He spills out all his anger through singing or I should say shouting the lyrics to the song. Which is a good idea to let it out in positive ways. No one gets hurt, except maybe ear drums. Channeling unwanted emotions could be like the grounding of electrical equipment. It creates a path for electricity to go to without shocking anyone. Ok, one more story then I'll finish. We were driving to the store. Life was good. The sun was up and the birds were chirping. I was in the wrong lane trying to cross over to the far right. Without looking over my shoulder OR CHECKING MY MIRRORS I went for it. In consequence of my actions I cut someone off causing a chain reaction of events making him drive up beside me and holding down his horn while giving me the international greeting. This caused me to mimic his actions by holding down my horn and saluting back. It would make for a great auto insurance commercial. We maybe shared that magical moment for about 100 feet while in motion down the road. He then sped off and I turned in to the store parking lot. I wanted justice and gratification supposing that I was wronged. I waited in the car, gathered my thoughts and took a couple of yoga breaths.  Logic must have missed the shuttle to my brain that day and caught the next one because I right then finally saw the light. I mean, I did cut him off. What good would it have done me to return fire to the "victim"? Seeing all of it play back in my head it suddenly made me roll on the floor laughing. It was pretty funny to see us act that way. I mean two grown men, he's probably a father and so am I. We teach our kids to share and to not hit others and here we are back to a primitive state thinking tough or "HANGIN TOUGH". Not really though, just being idiots together. That is why I now use my blinkers.

tell me about it

There is an art to dialogue. When two people meet for the very first time, there are the usual introductions. First, you get to know eachother's names. Second, where they are from and what they do. Then you officially become acquaintences. Being at boot camp I saw this pattern everyday. It usually started with your name, then your job in the service, then where you're from. If there was more in common, then it escalated into a possible friendship. We were all scared for our dear lives by our superiors anyway, that we bonded whether we spoke to each other or not. I've always thought of how funny we sound socially. Like how we just say these phrases like; "Oh no way really?" or "What's going on?" then there are the usual responses like; "Good, good" and "Nice". Probably the one that is most common would have to be; "Pretty good" It is either good or pretty good. Maybe we just don't like making it awkward by saying something like; "My dog died and I have diarrhea, but how are you?" So "pretty good" must be the abbreviated sugar coated response instead of the actual bad news. Three way conversations for me are the worse. It can sometimes feel like a slippery slope for the odd man to eventually be muscled out and left behind. There are the reunion type of conversations between two friends. They start with catching up on the past. Then shift into reminiscing the past. Which then usually ends in "We should do something later on" feeling they need to make a resolution to not be such strangers. There's the date conversations where it's a thrill not knowing eachother and you try to make a memorable impression by making your date laugh or spark up something worth their attention. Some conversations go through the motions, and then there are the ones that catch you by surprise. People can either talk too much or not at all. Sometimes people know their limits by avoiding the topic of politics or sports. South America for example, you just absolutely do not bring up soccer. There is the dreaded silence between two people which has been deemed as "awkward silence" accompanied by the feeling that one of the two should do something about it through creating small talk. This almost never is successful. Others are completely comfortable when very little is said. Usually good conversation starts with food. Not sure how, but that has been the case with me in the past. Maybe because eating certain foods makes you feel good. That's probably why people like to meet in a restaurant to make an announcement. Like a break up in a relationship. The offender is hoping the food ordered for the soon to be heartbroken victim will be compensated by the blow. . . I don't know. In other cases, meaningful conversations usually come when you least expect it. Once, I was riding a Greyhound bus back to Washington from California and I met this 40 year old punk rocker dude. His name was Al. He was heading to Portland to see his little girl. I was 18 at the time and got some fresh insight from him on what to expect up to his age. It is fascinating how our mouth is the only way we can directly express our feelings and opinions to others. Try to observe the anatomy of two people talking or arguing for that matter. You'll be amazed by what you hadn't noticed before.   

big shout out to the garden city

On a breezy day while standing at the edge of the ferry boat approaching British Columbia's capital, her majesty the great Victoria herself. I spread my arms and shouted out loud; "SALUT CANADA!" It was kind of a dare from a friend of mine. It was in the early summer once that I took a trip with him and his family. Out of all the places I've been to thus far, Victoria is one that I hold dear to my heart. That was my second time in Canada. The first time was Vancouver. That wasn't so great mainly because my brother and I got lost there. We went without a map or a plan. We ended up spending most of the time trying to find our way into the city and then right away leaving to get back to Washington. Traveling can be very exciting. The moment of experiencing somewhere new. Even the stop signs and road markers can be marveled at by how different they can appear. There is a new smell to a place, an emotion can be created by simply being in an area that you are unfamiliar with. The atmosphere could evoke a mood or a vibe. In Victoria, the impression that was instilled on me was very friendly, kind, and open to visitors. Now I am sure it could have been a very negative visit had I been mugged or lost, but I went with veterans who used to live there and who knew the best places and attractions to see. In downtown near the ports there are street performers and musicians. Such talent for everyone to enjoy. There is a deli and bakery in uptown by the name of Captain Cook's. They have these éclairs that are soooo rich, it was a tradition that you could not finish it completely. Otherwise you would need a shot of insulin. In downtown near the financial district in a certain alley there is a mural of street tag. Some of the best I have ever seen. There was Arbutus Cove where I slipped and fell in a tide pool from attempting to scale the wall of a cliff. There were purple jellyfish waiting for me at the bottom. I made it out alive though. There was the comic book shop on Johnson Street in downtown which if memory serves me correct had shelves and shelves of every possible selection you could find. It was there that I discovered how the candy Smarties actually depict M&Ms and the drink Five Alive is a can of citrus delight. The currency there is more, granted things are more expensive there, but to a fourteen year old I thought of it as the country's generosity. I really admired the architecture there which mimicked the heritage and influence of their founders from France. My friend and I got around on bike and would go through the university campus there to get to downtown. There is such diversity and culture. Students come from all over the world to attend university there. To me it is still to this day one of the best places to visit. 

stuntman anyone?

I'm not a fan of crashing, whether its from a major sugar high working graveyard or literally taking a somersault down a black diamond trail. In spite of my multiple failed battles with gravity I'm happy to report that my limbs are all still intact. Unlike Jules Winnfield who decided to give up the booky profession after being shot at several times, I still have not learned from my mistakes. Once I borrowed my friend's bicycle and used it to get to church. I was running late, so I was booking it down a busy tourist packed street. No I didn't hit any cars, I was pretty good about watching out for them. There was however a jam down the road. In consequence, I decided to switch to the less congested sidewalk. While attempting to jump my front tire off the road to get over the curb, my front tire detaches from the forks while in mid-air. Now in those few nano-seconds before actual impact I had two thoughts.  The first; "you fool, you forgot to secure the tire to the forks after getting it out of the trunk of your friend's car," While suspended in air for about a second and a half, I knew I was in for a world of hurt. Then the second thought came into play; "Oh crap I don't have any health insurance." Then SMACK. I bit the curb and saw a bright flash, didn't black out though. . . at least I think I didn't. I got up looking like something from a zombie movie with bloody scratches and torn clothes and to complete the look I now limped. Luckily I wasn't craving brains, more like a quick fix to the situation. A guest from a hotel nearby saw the whole thing and ran hysterically to me. While cupping my mouth I asked him his opinion about how bad it all looked.  In a southern drawl he replied, "Oh you're definitely gonna need stitches, no doubt abou' dat," Curses! I knew it. I reattached the wheel then with one hand covering my Phantom of the Opera-ness of a face biked my way to the hospital. Arriving there, I asked trying to appear as casual as ordering a number 4 at a drive thru; "Um, can I get the emergency room please." The receptionist looking a little disturbed directed me to the nearest doctor. It came down to 12 stitches on my upper lip. Getting home was the best part. For one I worked at a hotel complex. Two, they offered employment housing in the basement of the main building. Thirdly, my boss heard about my accident and being the sweet lady that she is, came by my door to try to visit me with a plate of cookies. I was in bed and due to my elephant man appearance, didn't really want any social interaction for the time being. There was a knock at the door; "Marquez? Are you there?" she asked in a high pitched motherly voice. I refrained from answering but just waited it out. "I just wanted to see if you were alright. I'll just leave these cookies here for you." As monstrous as I was feeling, she may as well have said "I'll just leave this bucket of fish heads for you". She left and three seconds later the door opened and my eyes squint out of the crack in the door, through the darkness and my hand pulls in the plate. It's funny the chain of events that take place from a small screw not being tightened enough. I did get a pretty cool scar out of it though, but crashing is no bueno.

Out to worship

I am closed on Sundays. . . I will see you all on Monday, Monday, Monday.

how to get over the wall

Projects are funny. For me the emotions of hope, joy, pressure of intense inadequacy always seem to accompany them coming and going in variations of intensity. When confronted with one of these emotions such as inadequacy it would feel overbearing and make you stop dead in your tracks and run to the nearest exit. Luckily all is not lost in spite of stumped ideas and writer's blocks. I have huge dreams like anybody else to create masterpieces in life and while it is true that it takes effort and work to overcome those obstacles, there is still a solution by simply putting one foot in front of the other and pressing on. In my early youth I was deemed by my mother as supersensitive. To my four year old mind I envisioned this to be like a super hero power. Things for me appear much more dramatic than what it actually is in reality. Recently in working on a character for a story, I was working hard to create his personality and how he thought, spoke, and acted. One night, I felt that overwhelming feeling of inadequacy during dinner. My mind was elsewhere and not at the dinner table. I was at a low and grew very doubtful if I could even take on the story that I started. I felt I lost the voice of this protagonist and didn't have a story to finish. I then excused myself and went into the bedroom to go pout it out on the bed. Through thinking hard and trying to be optimistic I realized that I was not alone. Thinking back to history almost all creators and artists have been through these trial periods. For example, there were a pair of musicians who started off traveling long hard distances from city to city in Canada playing at pubs not knowing if they were going to make it in the music industry and now after 14 years they stuck it and continued to work at it and now are on their seventh album playing sold out arenas. There was another band that was on the verge of breaking up but made another album instead, through that album they poured out all their heartaches and troubles into their songs giving it color and feeling. Now that record is known by millions. Another example was a young athlete who was cut from the junior high basketball team. This boy could've used that as an excuse to try other things but regardless he pushed through and continued to practice night and day and that man went on to be a legend in the history of the NBA. Through talking about my stupor of inspiration with my wife I have learned that all creators, artists, and anyone with plans and goals have highs and lows. There are struggles, frustrations, and discouragements to overcome. I feel that without those hard moments we will never shine or become masters at what we love to do. Like a lump of coal when put under extreme amounts of pressure will eventually turn into a sparkling diamond. We just need to press on and to do what Dora once said; "just keep swimming".

just get the autograph

I still have never met anyone really famous like the queen of England or the president. Going to a lot of shows, I have seen artists who were still pretty new to the music scene and it was much easier to meet them before they got too big to where there were body guards and meet and greets that were sold out before they even went on sale. There were quite a few who I have met. But for some dumb reason I geek out like no one's business. Why does that seem to happen? What is it, like they are not human like the rest of us? Were they from outer space? Yeah, their music is influential and they are known by many, but why can't I have  a normal conversation without getting stupid? Let me draw you a picture to elaborate on this. Once in Salt Lake City there was a huge show that I was in line for. I got there maybe four hours earlier than even the sound and stage crew guys. Thrice was playing at this venue in the middle of the desert right by the Great Salt Lake, Saltair that was the name of the place. There were a few touring buses parked alongside the place just idling. I figured one of them was their bus. So excitedly I went over there and proceeded to knock on the bus door. Out came one of the members of the band! It was Teppei, the band's rhythm guitarist. He signed something for me then was about to leave when without thinking I blurted out my hearts desire, to speak to the lead singer of the band. He nodded sure then went back to get him. While waiting with great anticipation I thought up in my head all the intellectual things I would say like how melodic their lyrics were in relation to their meanings and how their instruments projected such emotion. I imagined it all going down to where we would both be inspired and possibly exchange intellectually elevated ideas on current affairs and foreign policy. We would shoot ideas for their next album and in the end we would fist bump and he would say; "Hey, why don't come hang out with us after the show?" There would be the other band members and we'd play Halo in their bus until the show started. I would be accepted into their group. I was pretty confident that this was exactly how it would go down and was already imagining the nicknames we would come up for one another right  up until the moment he stepped out and stood there. All of a sudden my mind went blank. All confidence blew out my minds window. Oh crap was all I could think. My mouth went dry and all I could yell (yes I yelled with big hand gestures) "You guys rock!"  I then stumbled onto trying to emphasize gratitude for one of their recent songs but again ended up with something more along the lines of; "you are freakin' awesome! ,He shot back a practiced almost scripted "glad to hear that. thanks for coming". I stuttered some more again looking in the direction I didn't want to go in the conversation and ended up saying something similar to "I love you guys!" again. He then mentioned how he was really busy. Out of desperation seeing my fist-bumping, nicknaming, halo playing man fantasy incinerating before my very eyes I blurted out a "hey want to hang out before the show?" This really drew him away; "Yeah. . . we're really busy, gear and sound checks, you know." He left. Well that certainly blew. I totally can sympathize how Ryan Reynolds felt after being rejected by Jamie Palomino.

That's ok, Claudio Sanchez was my rebound. I met him in the break room and he described to me one of his songs which was quite fascinating. Maybe it just takes practice and the will to not get psyched, or make eye contact. Also if it gets really bad, you could have a pre-written script, I don't know. All in all they are just people. . . . who rock. Has that ever happened to you though? The words are ready to go in your head and then spill like dominoes?

that song from Cake

I love to run. It's not new to me. I first started running as a little Mexican kid from the dogs in our neighborhood with my cousins which evolved to bullies and then morphed into track and field in junior high and high school, then as a sweaty missionary for the LDS church in South America, and recently because a red faced spit throwin' middle aged angry sergeant was yelling move faster at my lagging butt. Ironically because of these stress induced sprints I've found running long distances a fantastic way to cope with stress as a father and a husband. . .not that my family is the cause of my stress, I love them. Running has been good to me. There is something about it. Like Rihanna once said; "I gotta to get my body moving, shake the stress away". Think of it like how a refrigerator ice machine has large clumps of ice. The machine is clogged like stress, and running is the ice pick that you use to stab at the clump. What a relief to release all the day's tension and in its place inner peace can develop, allowing ideas and inspiration to pour out. I hear inspirational classic 80's rock themes from Journey to Pat Benatar's Shadow of the Night pulsing vividly in my mind as I hit the pavement. Each exhale brings with it images of fireworks blasting in the near distance with crowds of people on each side of the street, frantically cheering me on. There are jets flying above me. I get fired up with motives that cannot be contained from within and feel I can solve the world's problems. Presidential campaigns, cures to the worlds most plagued diseases, and every beauty pageants dream of world peace all seem to be within my minds grasp. By golly, this is the shiz-nak. I freakin' love it! If I were to somehow lose my legs, I would use my arms in a wheel chair, if I where to lose my arms, I would just rock and roll on the floor, if for some reason my head and body were disconnected and the doctors were still able to keep me alive as just a head I would just open and close my jaw for an hour a day-either way I will work and shake that stress away!
Hey. . .that rhymed.