I’m a bad auntie! My beautiful niece came into the world a month and a few days ago and I meant to post this earlier but finals took me away from the internets! My bad!

(the good thing is, during the holiday I got to shoot a few more photos of her. I’m sure her parents will love that!)

More photos to come! She’s such a great baby and my nephew is such a good big brother!

It is sometimes difficult to write from a place of grief, so instead I will write from a place where the memories are still as visceral, but definitely not somber.

My earliest memory ever involved Uncle Robert. I don’t remember exactly how old I was. Definitely not old enough to form explicit memories, for all of you Psych nerds out there, and I am amazed at how vivid this memory is.

I remember crawling, unable to walk, across a dark carpet in a blue terry onesie, with a Winnie-the-Pooh appliqué sewn on the chest. He used to live with my family, and I remember being curious about what went on in his room, this big tall man that looked like my Daddy but not quite. I would crawl to his door, and peek underneath the crack, aching to see what was going on. Often times, I would see his feet in his shoes, shuffling about, and then sometimes I’d see nothing. Sometimes, I would stick my little fingers underneath the doorjamb and wiggle them, because well, that’s what babies do.

One fateful day, my peeking adventures came to an end. I saw the shoes (always polished, always clean shoes), coming towards the door. Perhaps in my baby mind, I didn’t yet know to back away. The door suddenly swung open, and I looked up to see a towering figure, with a face like my Daddy’s, and beady eyes staring down at me. A voice boomed ‘WHATAREYOUDOINNNNNNNNG?” with a huge grin and thunderous laughter. Terrified, I scurried away as fast as I could crawl to my parents, who in turn laughed at me.

In later years, Uncle Robert was nomadic, but a constant presence in our lives, if that makes sense. He would call a day or so in advance, and show up on our doorstep. He always rode in style, be it a tattered Lincoln, or a beat up Cutlass. Sure, the leather seats were worn well, a few dusty Bibles sat on the back dash, and a cluster of tattered and faded air fresheners dangled from the rearview mirror, but his vehicle of choice was always clean. Uncle Robert always was a sharp dresser. His pants were creased to break at the top of his polished shoes. He always wore a hat, usually a fedora with the black ribbon, tilted to the side, and aviator shades or sunglasses with amber lenses. He was sharp, undoubtedly sharp, the birth, life, and legacy of the cool.

He and my father shared such a deep bond. Without getting into too much detail, my father and uncle left home at a very early age, but they were always together. My uncle always looked out for his baby brother. Even miles apart, sometimes continents apart, my uncle found a way to keep in touch with all of his siblings. To this day, this is how my extended family communicates.  Uncle Robert had a knack for calling at odd hours of the morning, and playing a musical intro (presumably some Otis Redding, or Sam Cooke), before saying his hellos.

My uncle was not a perfect man. But what I think struck me, and I’m sure, many others in my family was that he was unapologetic for who he was. He was the definition of being genuine.

A week ago, God called him home. When my dad called me to deliver the news, I could not process it. It was finals week, I was in my usual form (attached at the hip to the large format printer), and I could not process it.  He had called my dad a few days before, and said he was ready to go. He had made his peace with JC.

It is hard to imagine someone with such a presence, such a personality, not being around anymore to teach you things, to make you laugh, but I’m so thankful, for the memories, of him. Uncle Robert always wanted a family reunion to happen, and although it was in the shadow of such a somber occasion (for us, because I know he is with God), he got what he wanted.  My father, brother, and I flew to Belleville, right outside of St. Louis, and had an amazing time. We met so many members of our extended family and laughed, laughed so hard until our bellies ached, as we all remembered Robert James Hawthorne. And oh, how his presence is indelible in so many of our memories. That’s how you celebrate a life. He was the birth, life, and legacy of the cool.

Uncle Robert, Uncle Tiny, Uncle T, will be missed on this earth, but I know where he’s gone, and I find comfort in that.

When I was younger, my Abuela (we all called her Mamá Angelica, and I called her Mamá for short) watched over me during the summers from when I was about 4 through elementary school (I was a pre-school dropout, it wasn’t for me), and I can say hands-down, that some of my fondest childhood memories were with her. She didn’t speak much English, so it kept my Spanish sharp, and we had many an adventure those years. The last time I saw her was when I was about 12 or 13, and I was hoping that I’d one day get to go to El Salvador with my mom and visit her there.

Some of you who know me know that I also write (wrote! will write again!?) poetry. It’s been a battle trying to find the balance between the lens and the pen. My pages are usually left blank, because I’ve put so much focus on photography.

Until recently. A few months ago, I was moved to write this poem after a conversation with Mami:

It was you who first split my tongue
Blew smells of el campo into my nostrils
Pupusa, arroz con frijoles,
pepino, calabacín, elote, zanahoria, nopalito
Sopa de pescado, el gran ojo mirandome
Swimming among alphabet pasta

Me he despertado unas mañanas
Las mejillas mojadas con lástimas
Pensando que me ha dejado

Tortillas resting oiled griddle form burn birthmarks
like liver spots adorning your hands
flattening that very maseca into perfection

Tamed abursho into escova, then trenzas
Delantal catching my tears as the
comb wove its way through my tangles
me wondering
why my hair could not flow
like your silver river

Me he despertado unas mañanas
Las mejillas mojadas con lástimas
Pensando que me ha dejado

Radio Ah-Eh-meh 640 crackling
Alabanzas warbling from your throat
Smelling of Lísterina, that’s how I thought
God smelled

You affixing a velo on my head,
Bobby pins resting on the shelf of your pursed lips
Entrusting me with a pandereta during worship hour

Translating in the grocery store, 5 and on tiptoe
holding fast to check writing stand
Making eye contact with the cashier

Mama el cajero necesita veinte centavos

Isopropyl alcohol sweating your wrinkled belly
Worn from births, soft like velvet
Into it you sank insulin needles
I mirrored your wincing

The blood teardrop leaking onto the test paper

How I’ve inherited the shape of your fingers
And toes
and love for sweets
and heavy shuffle
Con o sin chancleta

Me he despertado unas mañanas
Las mejillas mojadas con lástimas
Pensando que me ha dejado

Mami says you have fallen
And your old bones cannot knit themselves well
You have refused food and drink
And I refuse to see you this way

Me he despertado unas mañanas
Las mejillas mojadas con lástimas
Pensando que me ha dejado

But I know it’s your mouth
forming besos instead.

–

Sunday, my father called me and informed me that Mamá Angelica passed peacefully in her sleep earlier that morning. And while I know that she is no longer with us on earth and my heart is a little heavy, I’ve made peace with the fact that her body will no longer be in pain. I’m glad that I got a chance to know her while she was around, and finally, I’m certain that she’s still here with us all.

Te amo Mamá.

(I have no idea why I have that expression on my face LOL)

Hey there! So…I’m in the airport and I’d figure I’d share some of the stuff I did this week. I miss home, but I’m glad to be going back to Atlanta!

Of course, I hung out with this guy:

Watched my brother and father partake in some friendly pool competition:

Read a book on the Metro:

Learned that patrons gotta use faith:

Hirshhorned:

Got to meet Chance and Laurence for the first time (and again, in May! So excited!)

And hung out with an awesome couple yesterday!

More to come! Bout to board my plane!

Okay…for anyone that says that studying art in graduate school is an easy out, do this for me: a) calmly grab them by the ears, b) shake their head furiously, and then c) shout “NAW AW!”

This has been SUCH a challenging seme-er, quarter, for me! For one, yes, our school is based on a quarter system, so a lot of material/information is packed into a little bit of time. I have spent countless hours in the darkroom, 8 days a week in the library reading, and then I try to imagine a 9th day to sleep. But you know what? No complaints (at least not on this blog, land of the happy happiness . I like what I’m learning and am looking forward to learn more. I have a much deeper appreciation for everything that I might have admired in art, and I’m enjoying the journey.

Admittedly though, with my busy schedule, is the suckification of my blog updates. Yes, during that 9th day, when I’m catching up on some major ZZZs, I can’t squeeze in blogging. I will definitely try harder this quarter to keep updates though!

So I’m in the urreah (for you DC-radius folk, you know what I’m talkin about!) for a week, and I can’t not update my blog without a few shots of my most favorite little person in the whole wide world; my nephew!

He was, as you can imagine, overjoyed to see me!

We shared a meal of spaghetti and caught up on life:

And then once we finished our meal, he threw his fork at me. Because you know, in Toddler Speak, that means ‘NEVER LEAVE ME AGAIN. I MISS YOU AND YOUR CAMERA.’

(Did you guys know I’m a polyglot? I speak English, Spanish, and Toddler)

I’m here until Sunday, so there will definitely be updates, hopefully some posts about museum visits (I MISS THE HIRSHHORN! I’d curl up next to Ron Mueck’s Big Man if I wasn’t so creeped out by it), some R&R (’cause class starts at 8 on Monday! Auuugh!), some planning for my personal website (coming soon, really really soon!) and hopefully a sneak peek from an awesome wedding coming up on Saturday!

Hey there! I’ve been MIA and I’m sorry, we’ve been trying to get settled (judging from the boxes that are surrounding me, it’s safe to say that’s a work in progress), and I’m pretty sure Comcast hates us, because the internet is spotty! . Internet, you know how important you are to me…please call Comcast and tell them to get it together!

So my birthday was the 26th, so it was kinda cool, I’ll only be 26 on the 26th once and I got exactly the gift that I wanted; to spend much needed time with my familyyyyyy and put down my camera and computer for a few days and did just that (Cory will attest to the fact that sometimes I fall asleep on the floor next to the laptop while doing a late night edit session. I can practically hear him grumble right now. Wait. He might be grumbling because his editor gave him an earlier deadline this week. I’ll pretend he’s grumbling for me though .

Some of the few photos I snuck in:

In Atlanta, it was kinda like….WARMER. This was taken on the 26th, in Charlotte. Can you hear the crunch of the cold? I can. I kinda…don’t miss that about the DC area

I think the only words for this photo are ‘BURRRRRRRP *food coma*’

1+ year old + plate of mushy looking food = this. Somehow he looks more disgusted that I’m sure he is. Actually, I’m betting that he was DELIGHTED as he did this. Yes, he’s back.  I know y’all missed him.

He tries to hit the high note. Watch out Prince.

He decided to help Mommy put up the tree.

He’s really thinking hard about his wishlist. I promise.

Here he is with Cory, watching Mommy struggle with the tree.

He decided to demonstrate his rubber arm to me. My nephew’s talented.

Before…

He learned that they don’t bounce. Okay…I broke this one. He broke a red one.

Stay tuned. This hat will make an appearance in a future blog post

(Yep, he’s inside the Christmas tree box. I know, adorableness is gushing.)

I shot this photo last night, and eventually went to sleep…

I woke up this morning and had to run to the TV just to make sure that last night wasn’t a dream.

Phew. It wasn’t!

I’m going to have to bribe him with promises of cookies and stuff to not do anything cute while we’re in Atlanta. I might have to have him sign a contract of perpetual Toddler-ism inked in mashed potatoes.

Oh…I realized his favorite song in the world…has lyrics. I realized this at least 10 times. Over and over again. Hot dog.

And I also realized my father randomly yelling out ‘TOODLES’ in falsetto isn’t so random. See for yourself.

Growing up sooooo fast! I got a couple snapshots of my nephew running around the other day, and I’ll definitely be back with more but this picture CRACKS ME UP. My little hammy is transforming!

I’m back!

Last week, I got to hang out with Zion, her mom Tabitha, and her dad Brian at Glen Echo park, to have some fun on the carousel and the playground (it was Zion’s first time ever on a carousel! And I’m perpetually 8, so um…FUN for me!)

I had too many favorites. My bad in advance. But for real. I kept saying ‘OOOH I LIKE THIS ONE, AWWWWW, OOOOH, YAY!’ and Cory was all ‘WOMAN BE QUIET SOCCER’S ON, WHY DO YOU TALK TO YOUR LAPTOP!?’

(I mean, I know it’s not gonna answer or anything. I learned I also yell at the TV. Especially during the DNC and RNC. But wait, I’m not gonna wax politic. That’s a whole ‘nother blog.)

Okay, back to pics!

This is Zion doing her best Blue Steel face. WORK IT! FIERCE.

Did I mention I’m perpetually 8? Okay. It makes it perfectly okay to keep bubbles in my camera bag. Because sometimes when life gives you Palmolive soap, you pour some of that bad boy into a little container, add some water, mix it, and blow some bubbles.

Oh, and lemme tell you a secret. Parents of two year olds LOVE bubbles. See? Zion’s trying to channel her inspiration for the next photo, and Tabitha and Brian are remembering childhood.

I just like the look on Brian’s face in this photo.

 Favorite!

Zion loved the carousel (the second time around. Oh BTW I’m thinking this carousel’s like 50eleven years old, it probably only goes like .02 mph but I was WRONG! Where was my seatbelt?!)

Tickled. Favorite! Love love love the dimples!

 Kissed and tickled = Awwww-ness!

 :-D

Thank you Zion, Tabitha and Brian for such a fun-filled day!