Innocent faces

Roaming the summer for love,

Learning how to be…


Young Woman Playing Piano In The Coffee Shop….

The coffee shop up the road was open and I needed caffeine, I needed a jolt of something strong. I walk to the front and wait for someone to take my order, these days have been tiresoume and the coffee helps of course, but I need something else. I wasn’t in the mood to hear any music, I’m in this podcast phase and I don’t even listen to albums. I rather hear about them being talked about on the podcast than actually listen to them, maybe I heard them one too many times and just needed a break.

There is a women at the corner of the room playing piano, she has her back towards me and begins to play a song. I recognize the song instantly it’s a Lauryn Hill song, it was a brave song to cover, the lyrics were so beautiful, descriptive of this meaningful relationship, I decided to stay and listen to her rendition. Her hair was curly, not curly sue, just dark velvet swirl, locks landing on the back of her midnight blue sundress.

The notes and the keys that are pressed ring like bells to tell this love tale. The bell of the church rings to the people, sadness usually follows the chimes. The voice of a storyteller, a sweet soul, I could listen to hear her play this song over and over for days. I want to marry this women, I know nothing about her expect that she can play piano and sing. Is love suppose to be complicated, can’t I just fall in love with someone so easily.

You ever wonder if all these romantic movies and heartbreaking songs are only attempts to describe what “Love” is? Like what if love songs were only songs about what they thought (the song writer) love was, or a glimpse of what it was or can be? Maybe Love is this evolving form and it just takes on many shapes. We write about it, and sing about it, only to try to explain what it actually could be in our own individual understanding.

The room is painted a light green, the brown piano is up against the wall, she is sharing this account of her experience on earth. My mind opens up because I know the song, yet I know someone was giving their interpretation, their honor and commitment to a song. I am ready to be in the right place, her voice is hope that I can resolve the melody and storyline in my own song.

I fall in Love and yet I still leave the coffee shop alone. They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but what about the sound? What does “Love” sound like, without sight can I hear what Love is? Does Love need to be heard or is it something that can only be seen.

She continues to sing and play her piano while everyone thinks about that one special person in their life.

A Breath Of Patience

Things are more fucked up than I thought, the realization of being alive sets an idea of what living can be and how I can create that with my voice. The tongue gets twisted, the words are maybe to tough to swallow. Speak to create what it is you seek, teach by being able to learn and grow. Once you embrace the clarity, your place is very much your own. The contribution to the fuckery is to each their own.

“The world into which we are born is brutal and cruel, and at the same time of divine beauty. Which element we think outweighs the other, whether meaninglessness or meaning, is a matter of temperament.” – Carl Jung

I’m thinking of my high school years and getting into different writers and being good friends with my English teacher. The problems I was dealing with back then I thought were so intense, maybe the tenseness just grows on you. I have way different issues than I did back then, I’m making up reasons to not attend graduate school and learning a new job in a field very new. I’m still struggling to find out what love is, blogging poetry and chasing the mystery of the universe.

You ever get that assignment to write a letter to your self and it was mailed to you ten years later. It was like the present you talking to future you. Well I didn’t complete the assignment, but it’s a bizarre thought. What kind of advice can a younger version of yourself give yourself? What kind of advice can the future you give to the high school version of you?

Keep headed in that direction and don’t lose sight of the dream.

Moving Up The Hill…

If she’s amazing, she won’t be easy. If she’s easy, she won’t be amazing. If she’s worth it, you wont give up. If you give up, you’re not worthy…. Truth is, everybody is going to hurt you; you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for. – Bob Marley

These days are so fast paced, I’m taking on more than I have in the past, there is more I need to know and everything I know up to this point  needs to be utilized with my best efforts. It’s like re-figuring it out day by day, the knowledge is diverse, it can be something new or unfamiliar, but with an open mind, the experience is bliss. 

I think of the first day I met my niece, so nieve to my own place in the family, my brother brings her into the room with the these shiny shoes. We almost stare each other down, so familiar, her child eyes, baby face, re-seeing my brother for the first time. She has no problem with me holding her; it wasn’t till then I realized the impact I had on this kid. Smiling on my shoulders, we felt ambiguous standing in the living room, wondering about what the future held for a new us.

The greater good will always exist, the choices and outcomes to life are reflected in that bold touch reality gives us in those slight moments of clarity, that pat on the back. I guess clarity comes and goes, but what matters most is how you benefited from the great revelation, there’s a story prior, and one after when this one ends. At times like these when everything seems to be this continuous cycle-or-ball of energy blowing in the wind, I remember I have this role to be the strong brother, strong uncle and son. In that structure of loyalty to my people, everything I think is me surpasses those worries and second-guessings floating around. As silly as it sounds, we need to be told regularly that we are doing the right thing, everyday it must be said, I love you, me, us.








Big Brother Living

I missed the karma that came as a consequence – Jay Z

I have been in the comfort of my head, not always the place to be, in the sense of sharing my thoughts for the sake of keeping them bottled in. I am a writer, so obviously I need to be writing. I guess the time factor always has me wondering, our opinions change and new insights come to surface. Our minds can run a great distance if we let it prosper, and I think I just want to capture the true essence of myself writing what I feel is true.

The world has become this place where the impossible is actually allowable and now if you make the right moves the narrative is more accurate to what we had in our head. The human experience is determined by our mistakes, the great lessons come from decisions that maybe weren’t great in the moment. That’s the power of time, after a duration has passed, the reflection and openness to our choices shine a new reality.

Clarity is born out of confusion.

I really don’t share too much about my love life, or lack of. Over the years I have gotten to know a lot of beautiful individuals, and regardless of the way things worked out, sometimes the truth is so simple that your searching for additional evidence to support another way of understanding the outcome. That’s why time is so mysterious, I may see things differently tomorrow, nothing has changed, yet everything now makes sense.

After a long day at work, I come home and my Mom is watching a wedding show on tv, married at first sight. And she then asks me if I would ever have an arranged marriage?

Do I even want to be married?

I Made Reservations…

There is multiple meanings to the word Reservation, yet I am talking about the land drawn out for native people definition. I live on a reservation, it’s not “the reservation”, I mean there are several Rezs. Each with their own individuals and ways of living. Maybe the word Reservation isn’t able to truly define what a Rez is…

You know what’s a trip? When you go from one Rez to another Rez. As a native dude visiting another home of a tribe is like time traveling to a parallel universe. I mean you see things that are on your own Rez but in a different place. The landscape might not even be comparable from my Rez to maybe one in the northern Arizona area. I am from the desert, south, and may not see snow in the winter time, yet I can feel the dynamics of a Rez that does see snow. It’s different but the same.

I guess the term has it’s history to how it became a defined space for Native Americans of a particular tribe or tribes. I didn’t do any research, yet I can admit to some truth to the word in the context of labeling a place for Native people. How the borders of the overall country are so important to living this particular history of the land America. The reservations made, was it in the best interest of indigenous people living in these set locations?