You are Light!

This picture reminds me of my bro. Ironically it also sheds light on my aunt's motto: "You are LIGHT."

With a Little Help from my Friends

I remember the first time I met Romeo. Like a scene straight out of Wonder Years, we each lent the other an ear, and "tried not to sing outta key." Our peculiar friendship began right smack in the middle of the UCLA Student Store while I perused a Salvador Dali art book after attending UCLA's AAP Scholar's Day.

His animated frame came bursting onto the scene to the right of me and we started talking art and politics from the get go. He seemed much smarter than me (but not cooler) and, as his name highlights, he had no problem taking center stage, subtly dramatic, somewhat virile, and highly complicated like a true Shakespearean character.

I was amused by how he drove home each of his talking points with his hands and head, a half-cocked smile nailing each issue with an academic and comedic flare that jerked to a beat only he knew. He's always been an academic. He's always danced to his own rhythm. Imagine our surprise when two months after our initial meeting at the UCLA store, some campus office had placed us to room together in the dorms. A mixture of chance and fate.

Fast forward nearly six years later and the guy's got a Masters and is beginning a PhD program this fall. Having received numerous offers at top universities, he's got some difficult decisions to make, but some very good options. The long hours spent simultaneously stressing and studying, hoping that no one could rightfully claim us to be fakes at the university, unworthy of being accepted into UCLA, are long gone. We studied harder. Pushed each other further. And even found ourselves at each other's throats throughout our undergraduate careers. We've owned different paths, taken different steps, and entered different worlds.

Yet we found each other sharing dinner the other night with mutual friends. We sat there eating ramen noodles in Little Tokyo (Japantown), while catching up--talking sports, relationships, future plans, etc. We talked race and class ... laughing, sharing, and analyzing the night away. We even shared a shot of Patron and some hearty smiles. Good times for old buddies and roommates, fellow students and lovers of life and Love.

Congratulations, bro! I'm proud of you! But don't let it get to your head. Ponte a estudir! (haha) and Don't Let me Down. 'Cause I'm sure you'll agree that Cocker had it right doggy, "I get by with a little help from my friends."

First Day of Spring

Rode the bikes down to the Queen Mary with some homies.

A Special Day, A Special Vision

"Blessed 2 Surf"


Vision is beautiful!

To write or not to write ...

I've been really busy lately and haven't had an opportunity to post. Actually, there's a number of postings in my draft folder but I still can't seem to finish them. Funny the way 'block' occurs. While my ideas for some posts and my drafts increase, so too do my to-do lists and the things on them. Like all things, writing is a form that needs to be done regularly. But I'm still writing--just not posting. Still got ideas, still getting into treble, still writing, just not clicking 'post to blog.' Block never occurs in a vacuum, though. Time to take a couple of steps back, look at the situation with new eyes.

First it's interesting that I say 'block' and not 'writer's block.' Maybe it's insecurity about my status as a valid writer. Or maybe it's because I'm completely secure with my writing ability--faith in development, faith in returns--and I understand that writing is a process, which includes not only the act of writing but also the act of living. And of course, self-reflective thought. So block occurs in one's life and 'writer's block' is only one manifestation of some larger 'block'.

Again, as I sit here and self-reflect, I realize there are a lot of things I'm obsessing about. And they're all very diverse issues. Sometimes my 'work' on these issues feels like a full-time job in itself, which is interesting because then the question becomes about, "who's paying me?" God is wild. This supreme being will take you somewhere and the faith is that it will guide you, comfort you, keep you sane, keep you whole. But the trip and the journey you sign up for and head out on, makes you different, changes you so much so that the reflection you see isn't yourself, but a mixture of the person that was called and the decaying flesh of a vessle we explore that calling with. The two are one ... and the two are seperate. Each are strangers to one another, to the world, and to themself.

But the pace at which this change occurs and the ways I'm changing often make it difficult to assess--to step back and see clearly--the impact of my moves and the force of previous steps. It's a little frightening. My faith is nurtured with 'signs', messages in a true sense, where communication is occuring on a give and take basis, and isn't a case of me seeing what I want to see. But few can grasp this power of true communication with a higher being. Even I find myself questioning the source--validity, sanctity, and saneness of it all. I can only hope that given the indescribable and other-wordly power of this dialogue between God and myself, that I move forth and reach all of my unknown destinations. That I can be a faithful steward in this journey. I'll click 'post to blog' in due time. Meanwhile ... Love.

"La Cita" ... "The Meeting"