Photo and Poetry Dump


Art begets art.

Or at least, that’s what I believe in. You might not care about what I believe in but I care about what I believe in. I should. And I suggest you start consciously caring about the things you claim to believe in too.

But that is not the whole point of this particular blog post. I am writing this because last Friday, my friends and I visited a museum (Pinto Art Gallery) and it’s only now that I feel ready to actually feel something. Let me clarify that a bit. You know how it is in the movies or on TV— characters walk past paintings and sculptures and then they stop to stare at those artworks that seem to want to talk to them? That didn’t happen when I was there. I instantly loved all I’ve seen but that time I felt like I was unprepared to listen to whatever they were trying to tell me.

So here’s to second chances.

I’ll be posting some of my favorite finds in the museum and the micro-poems I wrote inspired by them. So this is going to be like a double tour where you can have a virtual trip both in the museum and inside the dirty, dusty corners of my head.

Here it goes.

I asked him
“How long should one wait?”
He didn’t say a word.
He stayed until
parts of him were left.

I wonder if she ever returned
before all of him faded.
Pinto Art Museum (21)


We are whole

Pinto Art Museum (108)


I’m not moving
away from you;
please don’t think of it that way.

I’m moving towards
that is not you.

I’m trying
to get there as fast
as I could.
Pinto Art Museum (52)***

Once in a while
I think of
all the tomorrows
we planned
but will live
Pinto Art Museum (15)***


The images
inside the frames
or the people
looking at those images—

Whose spirit suffers more?
Who craves more
to break
Pinto Art Museum (83)***

I guess that’s all I have to say for now.
I’ll be back soon.
I promise.