http://nicelledavis.com/2015/12/09/edwin-vasquez-building-a-better-world/

Los Tipitos - Apostar al Amor [Acústico] - Perros de la Calle

THE QUILT

A Blanket of wild flowers,

Resting like a long quilt, blooming under the desert sun,

With patches of delicate white, violet and deep orange.

As the breeze caresses their soft petals,

The poppies dance with the rest of the wild flowers

Unaware of the sea of trash swallowing them.

In the native habitat all around,

Large concrete pieces rise above the flora,

Tree branches left on the side of the road,

Unmatched shoes, Walmart plastic bags

And a soft blue loveseat

Where a lonely raven takes a morning sun bath.

From the distance, the view of the fields

Is breathtaking, relaxing and inspiring.

It is when you open your eyes and get close

That you see Mother Nature’s bleeding,

While the polluted fields intoxicate its soil

And nobody does anything to prevent it,

Because what most people see,

Is a long quilt of wild poppy flowers,

Inviting us to fall in love with them.

I WAS LECTURED TODAY

I was lectured by an elderly woman who was curious about my name and accent. She started by asking me why my Mexican parents named me Edwin.

“That’s an American name, you know,” she began. I listened very attentively as she continued with her remarks.

Among other things, she told me that my Mexican accent is very strong when I “tried” to speak English. Once she finished, I asked her if she wanted me to answer her inquiries. She said, “Go ahead.”

“Well,” I said, “I was born in Quetzaltenango, Guatemala. Both of my parents were also from that beautiful country.”

She was curious. “Where in Mexico is Guatemala located?”

I explained to her that Guatemala is an independent country in Central America, and, as a matter of fact, that today marked the one hundred ninety-third anniversary of their independence from Spain — which is in Europe, not in Mexico.

I also explained to her that Edwin is not an American name, but an English one. My father named me after his favorite author Edwin Abbot, the author of Flatland.  Regarding my strong accent, I answered her with one of my quotes.

“To me, English is like a drug addiction; I struggle with it every day.”  I made that remark because I sensed she could relate to that feeling.

I told her that I am proud of my heritage, and that I have many friends from different nationalities, including Americans, who respect me and are not offended by my name or my accent. 

Finally, I told her that I do speak a couple languages, but that “Spanglish” is not one of them.

She left without another word.

PINTURAS DIGITALES

MURAL TRIBUTE TO ROSAMOND

DON'T SLEEP