TGM: Cityscape Pt. 1

A friendly reminder from West Virginia to complete my project.

Hello, it’s been some time. First off,  I apologize for that. So much has happened recently. The creation of new projects, relocating from Charlotte to Fuquay-Varina, and editing photographs. There hasn’t been much time to post, but that’s changing now. It’s time for “The Golden Moment” to shine once more, and I hope you are back to shine too. .

This post is a little different; not only is it divided into two parts, but it is also in a different layout. This is the intended format for my personal work.  If you’ve been following my page then you know that I am almost finished with -:Dogwood.+.  I have hopes of turning it into a photo-book so that will be the next step.  In order to practice, I figured I would give it a shot on my page.  The format will include a brief description of the location (not in this one), some personal entries, a poem or two and then a collage of my favorite images from that destination. Today’s post is a digital representation of a chapter in -:Dogwood.+. As always feedback is appreciated, thank you and enjoy.

Cityscapes Pt. 1



“So it’s begun. Another summer road-trip to Detroit. Four, well, three able-bodied drivers and one passenger.  We left Charlotte with a family photo, to remind us why we are traveling ten hours in the dead of night. The boy is anxiously awaiting our return. The NBA finals are playing, but I care for it not. The sporting industry has become spoiled with money and fame over talent. Instead, I’m sitting and attempting to read 1984 (George Orwell) in the back seat of a packed Jeep. Or maybe, I’m reading a novel about today’s times, I can’t really tell. I read until the natural light of the sun faded through these tinted windows. I haven’t picked up a novel for quite some time, mostly because I’m afraid that absorbing words would hinder my own release.”

Driver Duty
Stolen Identity
The Toll Man, a forgotten duty.
Shoulders make the best pillows.

“Here, I am just a passenger. A passenger with a destination in mind and a long road to travel. Each hour brought us closer to the infamous Motor City and farther from our home. After plenty of Red Bulls and gas station junk food, we reached the complex on the outskirts of Detroit. We were greeted by the smell of delicious food; a plate of tamales with a pot of frijoles on the stove. She (who is the mother of the boy), welcomed us with the same smile as she did last year. The boy laid asleep in his bed, before he was bombarded by him (the boy’s brother), and her (the boy’s sister). We (all of us) sat at the table, enjoying breakfast and preparing for the incoming nap. The boy had family who was deaf, I watched the boy speak with his hands and not words. How quickly we tend to grow. I (or me) sat on the couch, surrounded by my chargers and ready for sleep. Somehow, the rest came faster than expected and I slept until my body grew restless once again.”

The boy
The boy’s family
las mujeres
desayuno con we
la madre en la llama

“Today was weird. For the first time, I bought something with my children in mind. Which is strange because I have none, nor do I have any on the way. Hell, I’m still a child in some ways. But here I was, standing in a thrift store on some semi-desolate street in Cleveland, Ohio. On the bottom bookshelf rested a collection of novels, thin stories with paperback covers that looked as if they could rip from a simple bend. They were all stamped with ‘The Chronicles of Narnia‘. I reached to capture them all in one swift motion. I thought I bought the books because of my childhood, for I wasn’t allowed to read Harry Potter in my household. But a thought invaded my head…how would it feel to let my child read the same novels that planted the seeds of my own imagination? Would I sit at the edge of their bed and recite the story? Or would they discover their own divinity while exploring these words? I don’t know, but I wanted to see this until the end. I wanted to know my child’s future, and I started to realize that’s what it means to be a parent. Road-trips make you think too much

The Amaya Clan + 2

“Trip Sitting”

It smells of snacks

Overpriced gas station chips

Bags half full of stale air

Or maybe I smell coffee

Roasted beans and burning water

A concoction meant to chase away sleep

For  our journey is long

Despite the distance

We only race against time

Roaming into the night

With hopes of finding

Familiar light at the end.

Preview of Cityscapes Pt. 2

Destination: Cleveland, Ohio



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