Day 8: Mike & the Mechanics - The Living Years

Hello friends, neighbors, esteemed colleagues, teammates, battle buddies, and loved ones! I am writing you this last post for the month of June. Due to my summer schedule I will be "out of town" until this August. I want to let you all know that it is really exhilarating posting each day the things that roam my crazy mind. Its like they are free body ghosts and I am wearing an Australian explorer outfit (the man in the yellow hat with George, only I'm Mexican without a monkey - nevermind) with a net. I go out catching these specters and release them through this blog. This song always makes for a great departure, like how the lights come on after the movie is over and the credits are rolling. OK, sorry to get all "sentimental", I will now proceed to shut my mouth and look forward to sharing more wacky stories and adventures next next month. Thank you everyone for your support and reading these, I can't express enough how much that motivates me to keep going. I love to write, I love to run, I love to live. See you all soon. . .

a champion at age 3

This kid cracks me up. He is so little and yet talks like an angry New Yorker when he gets worked up. Such a hot head. He came to us by surprise (the cutest whoops by far) and the moment he was born, the nurses took him to a sort of operating table at the side of the room and was met by three others running a defibrillator to him. As I attended to my wife I looked over and asked while sensing the thick cloud of uneasiness "Is everything alright?" With the four of them huddled over my son, a head pops giving a jolly reply like a mechanic would say coming out from under your car; "Uh-huh, we'll have him ready in no time!" Then you here the words; "Ready...clear, one two three, clear..." (yeah, you're not fooling anyone doc). He pulled through and we took him home with this space blanket that glows alien green (Jaundice). I kiss my wife good night and then hit the lights and then our "plutonium baby" lights up the room keeping the monsters under the bed at bay. Now he has grown a bit and some of the things that come out of this kid's mouth make me pull a double take. Seriously last night, I was called out by eating most of the cookies (my wife tends to play detective) and my son caught wind of it. I go into the kitchen and from behind I hear this taunt; "Yooo don' get no mo cookies, hhuuuuuuh daddy?" while shaking his head walking like a drunk man. Like your typical New Yorker he loves to use hand gestures to further his point. He also leans his head from side to side to further this drunken attitude. Where did this kid come from (don't answer that!)?

Day 7: Bill Evans - Peace Piece

I think the best part after a run is the moment where I jog to this sidewalk in between the housing developments with grassy hills on each side. Almost like a small valley, there are no lights at all there. Large power-line towers shadow over the sidewalk through the neighborhood, they are maybe 50 feet high. Its nice when the moon is out, the whole area is lit up like there is a light coat of silver snow, in the moon's absence, the stars paint a picture of the majestic Milky Way and there are millions. Anyways it is my favorite part of the jog, I lie on my back and let my body sink into the ground while feeling it rise and fall with every breath. I can hear my heartbeat while closing my eyes. I am free in a natural state of bliss. The sweat rolls down my face, exhausted I am, but what a treat to just soak up in the void of the haste. Reflecting on what matters all in this privileged absence of time (unless you have to be back somewhere at a certain time). This I relish in. Meditating on my week, my family, work, projects. I just lay there like a starfish at the bottom of the coral reef watching the ripples dance before me and hear the current moving in and out.

say that to my face

It is here!!! The new and improved technique for me to get my thoughts all in it's entirety without scribbling like a maniac prisoner on the Chateau D'if who has the world's longest beard (nevermind the reference). The point is I have a tape recorder thanks to my trusted colleague, mi amor para siempre AKA wife. Things will look much brighter in the future with this puppy (it's not a puppy, it's a tape recorder). Usually after my jogs the ideas get going and I have to sprint home praying that my memory will not fail me (I'm barely 30, it's sad I know). The words will be more sincere and raw. True, I will now give out the impression that I am one of those people on the subway that carries a completely normal conversation with a trash can while the general public sit at least three seat widths from me but regardless I HAVE A TAPE RECORDER. Let the world know of this beautiful invention and watch out paper here I come!

Day 6: Cursive - Staying Alive

I couldn't say no to doing this, but rest assure..that there is no real guarantee for anything planned. OK, I first heard this song while I was in the back of a friends car riding to another town during the 4th of July. The sun had already set hours ago and the fireworks were going off. This song's duration lasted the length of the trip. My eyes were focused on the overhead bursts of many bright colors of light blasting in intensity while others were dying, the whole process repeated itself over the open water. The song was cranked in the car making it feel like a soundtrack. We were in a state of awe. Giving reverence to something that was not planned and rarely occurred to us. It was such a peaceful feeling. I was amazed so dearly at how coincidental this lasted the drive along the Puget Sound. There was no accomplishment, we didn't cure a disease - we did nothing to feel this small sensation of success (like we won the Super Bowl), it was just this track that in the moment was quietly observed. I thrive on these moments. This very feeling generated from such music and beauty (to me) is what unites the brush to the canvas and together create something entirely beyond ourselves. This is what gets me up every morning and to fight for another day, there is always a story to tell.

Bill Cunningham

 here

A man who is known to roam the streets of the Big Apple to capture and expose the latest trends of the common commuters only to log that day's post for one of the largest newspapers in the nation - maybe world. His eye is trained for what to look for and to not be distracted by the over-the-top elegance and flashy styles (not that I could tell the difference). The passion and charisma that is put into what he does from waking up early bicycling out on the streets and fine-picking those expressing themselves to late night developing the films, sorting, rearranging the optics of the day is incomparable. I am blown away by his work ethic. He really inspires and pushes me (without him even realizing it) to go an extra step above and beyond. Often times I admit that my work is not up to par, I do feel defeated as to just 'send it out' and call it quits for the day, quite the opposite with this guy. His art director sits next to him editing the page spread with the photos of people for HOURS literally. Frustration is radiated out of this young man while Bill remains oblivious to his work changing and swapping photos, sitting on it, thinking hard as to where the best pieces would be. On top of being a legend he never lets that get to his head AT ALL. He stays unchanged, never compromising, and stays fiercely humbled in spite of his iconic symbol to the world of fashion. He is known by millions for his masterpieces in mapping styles and creating a timeline (for over 40 years) of art through what people wear that stand out. He is a beacon to me showing me indirectly how you must always have compassion doing what you love to do. I'm sure he wasn't born with eye for style, it came through much practice and getting out there everyday. His life is one that stands unique by having absolutely NOTHING else but simply what he does best with how much work he puts into what he does and lives for. He is an artist of the photo medium and does not settle for less. His whole life is enveloped around taking snapshots at what people wear while never getting tired of smiling at complete strangers that could warm anyone's heart. This ones for you Bill.  

my scatter brain

So, as of now the dialogue has been tamed and drawn out, the order of events are in place, ink has met the paper, first round edits have been applied and now.....the query letter. That single page that everyone dreads. Too little info or heavy blue waves of information surging at those inquired to read, will be rejected. On that note, I sit in a life raft stranded in the ocean waiting it out trying to piece together crucial phrases, sentences, key words to pop out in order to make them come back for more. So much information with so little time. All you are doing is creating a theatrical trailer for your book, article, memoir whatever it is, how would you want it to look on the big screen? That's what I keep telling myself anyway to calm myself down and focus. You are pitching an idea to someone. How and where do you begin? How do you conform to simplicity. Lately I've been practicing with movies that I know so well (front and back) and try to sum it up in a few words. I've been told that it is supposed to be the main core of the story, what does your character desire the most? Why should they want to read on? What stands out from the thousands of other book proposals?