It slipped my mind...

Father's Day. Another blogger wished a father's day to all the eligible persons. Everybody must have a father right? I don't know the history behind these national celebrations but sometimes it feels like too much. I'll read the history on it later, but as far as the present goes, how does a inadequate father feel on that day? Does he feel as if he has lost more than he expected to gain. Perhaps he still feels the burden of being an absent father. Do you have a son? somewhere, but not here.

I have a friend in a same-sex relationship with a son. I was thinking about her situation that day. I jumped to Antonio's Card, a children's book by Rigoberto Gonzalez whose story involves the difficulty in explaining/producing a mother's day card for same-sex parents. Good story.

On a more calmado note,
I watched Return to Sleepaway Camp last night. I loved the original Sleepaway Camp because I remember watching it with my brother and sister. This wasn't the same, but it keeps the memory alive. That's enough, no reason to get extra nostalgic today.

Home Sweet Home

Another trip to San Antonio, which was productive. Visited Six Flags and I went on three rides although i am scared of heights, and that's about as much as my body could take. I realize people like the rides because of the adrenaline rush, but give me a different type of adrenaline. I would rather swim out on the beach, go through a haunted house, even a Hurricane! A lot of other things besides fast moving heights. The trip also included a visit to the children's museum, which was good, but not great. Also, San Antonio Missions baseball game which was fun, Half Price bookstore is always good to me, and lots and lots of eating out.
Perhaps the biggest event was receiving my comments from the pre-draft thesis. A lot of "potential" remarks which I hate because it feels to me like "not quite good". Good isn't always easy, I realize that. So I will have to put more work into it, and hope it gets better. Oh, also was rejected by Bordersenses, which means I have to go back and review what I submitted. Anyways, have to go do some work-work, will write more later.

but i just remembered something i wanted to think more about. Nearby the Motel 6 i stayed at, which was actually quite nice inside, older Mexicanos would stand along the street waiting to be picked up for jobs. When a work-looking truck passed by they would raise and waive their hands. It was surprising to see because the hotel was only yards away from Market Square which is a lush area of tourist. Separating both was I-10. It's surprising how cities have developed a new set of tracks, the highways sometimes sheltering those closest to the center. I didn't feel nervous as I passed by them, because they didn't emit a desire to harm, but i imagine many people feel threatened.

I didn't' see any of them get picked up, but as the day passed their numbers would get smaller. But each morning they were there again looking for work.

Otra Vez en San Antonio

My second time in SA in the past two weeks, the previous to drop off Noe for FR Orientation at UTSA. He says it was boring, which I'll take as it went well and they gave him a lot of academic information.

This past weekend I went w/ fellow MFA poet R.G to visit the Alameda exhibit, Phantom Sightings: Art after the Chicano Movement.

Must say I enjoyed the exhibit, especially the photography of Carlee Fernandez. There was another artist, Ken Gonzalez-Day who displayed postcards of lynchings, which had been scanned and worked on to eliminate the bodies from the postcards. A bit eerie because I could sense a tension from viewing the postcard, but there wasn't a physical entity to represent that tension.

Here is a sample:



I was inspired by some of the artwork, although most of it I would term as experimental, or perhaps "not-traditional".

I'm trying to think of something that goes with this title I came up with while viewing.


Deconstructed Chicano


es partes de
deep south texas and the 6 month long hurricane season. Some cousins arrested for attempted murder or drug possession. a pregnant sister. a young pregnant sister. and my mother. my father. divorced and some of the embarrassment that came with it. abuelos y abuelas que lla no viven. Y que cuando vivian no los entendia. It's late night discussions ala mid-day tent revivals. It's your voice. Slipping down the cement canal, algae like oil. Yesterday I saw kids shooting at beer bottles, and I was unsure if I should scold them for breaking glass, or remember the way my brother and I shot at bottles we threw into the canal. It's a couple of memories that may be exaggerated for effect. Adding an extra drop of rain to the river, because we have to complete it somehow. a father-son relationship with my brother. a son i lost because he was never mine. complicated relationships. brown. sometimes lighter. non-traditional is equivalent to the odd sheep.


*something to work on.

Lost or Found

I have a fascination with lost items: most of all pictures. I don't remember where i found this photo, but my first thought is how this family looks normal, right? Literally all smiles. There isn't much to do with these, just a curiosity of where it came from, usually found in some book I buy at the segunda. I wonder if i have lost some of my own and where they end up. I'm writing but I'm not getting to the point.

Circling, circling, attempting to hit bulls eye.