Echoes and Moments

This post is a long time coming. From porch-side conversations with my best friend to evening phone chats with my girlfriend, a certain label fails to elude me as I continue the trek through my late twenties as a rank-and-file member of the Millennial generation. Although this label overlaps, to an extent, with the generation before (X), I have warily accepted its use to describe certain tendencies that I embrace, no matter how much I feel it eviscerates any real depth to which I hold certain of my likes, dislikes, and convictions. I am talking about the divisive label Hipster,  one that has been leveled against me by my students, by certain friends, and others. At first blush this title might conjure images of a thirtysomething, tattoo-wearing, mustache sprouting, oddly dressed entitled upper middle class white person, and though there are some excellent examples of how that came to be the case, it simply doesn't describe me at all. Upon deeper reflection, there are certain areas...

Vigil for Orlando shooting, June 13, 2016. It has been difficult to add words to what has already been said about the last few weeks. Surely, the silence of the Christian community regarding the tragedy in Orlando a few weeks ago has been painful for many of my LGBTQ friends. Each time gun violence claims another brother or sister of mine I, too, break down and retreat into the catatonia of survivor's guilt. Orlando's gay community is still shell shocked by this event, but the ripples will extend outward for many more, much longer into our shared consciousness. The thing is, my response didn't surprise me. I shut down and retreated because I had seen this before and, as the actions of our legislature show me, I have no reason to believe that this won't happen again. Sure, satirical periodicals may post their repeats of the same story over and again, but it does little now to assuage the pain that seeps from the open wounds of our nation's psyche. Is this cy...

Sunrise at Haleakala, Maui. Sunlight screams into my eyes, The heat melting any illusions Or ghosts that haunted me before I awoke. Still my heart longs for the day When listlessness will be replaced by Memory Intact And the breaths come easier, freed From yokes of self-constructed shackles. The thrust of my regret keeps jabbing Inward, deeper, to the center Of great Longing, where all doubts gather And pool at the feet of my Memory, The tower that I long to tackle yet never Seem to surmount, its lofty heights Climbing beyond the first breaths of the dawn. And then the Rest returns: That great awakening in my mind, Where once I failed to understand all Now the hopes and dreams come screaming back, yes back! Again is my hope kindled. Alive am I, a man - fear need not hinder me, Let it fade beneath a soft, swift sunrise.

As the rain mist gently cools the air outside the creaky windows of my home here in Fresno, the world slows down a bit and I am afforded the perfect opportunity to listen to some new music. It is, after all, Friday*, and as we herald the weekend, let's reflect on some of the best new tunes to cross our airwaves. There are many candidates to consider, but for now I'll focus on three artists and their latest releases. So far 2016 has been a great year for new music, and there seems to be more to come on the horizon. I am, of course, giddy with excitement over the new Radiohead release on Sunday , and although I lament that I could not come close to getting tickets for their summer tour, I can enjoy a new video release in anticipation of their imminent album drop. That album will have to wait for a review of its own, but for now I'll dive into the three featured albums that have stayed with me over the past few weeks. To begin, I travel sonically to the land of my birth, th...

Author's Note: This poem is born out of some therapy that I did this past month where we visualized our "inner child" in its natural environment. Unsurprisingly, my "inner child" was, to my mind's eye, surrounded by the verdant greens and summer hues of suburban Richmond, Virginia. I encourage you to check out one of my more recent blog posts to get a sense of how I relate to the natural world, and in the meantime, enjoy my latest work, taking the form of a series of questions to this metaphorical young one within. In case you're wondering, this conversation goes back in time, starting from my more recent memories and ending from a time quite a long time ago, in my estimation. Oh child, why wander? Why doubt the intentions of your Creator? Why suffer under the yoke of your own words? Did you forget the cool breeze outside, The warmth in her eyes, And the laughs shared at that place down the street? Did you forget the stories you used to tell ...

What a year 2015 has been, and although this post may strike you as a bit late (thank you late-winter chills and El Niño storms), I've compiled my annual list of music to satiate your earbuds for the time being. Per tradition, the music is listed by artist, followed by album title, and is listed from my lesser favorites to the number one (which should be no surprise to those of you in conversation with me). Thus, without further ado, I submit my list for your humble consideration. 10. Kamasi Washington, Epic Washington has come a long way as an artist rising out of the sublime musical swamp that is LA, and, because he was featured in Paste Magazine  and other musical pulp, he grabbed my attention immediately. What we find is an incredible blend of hip-hop and jazz; twinges of radio-ready beats mixed with the newest and most progressive expressions of right hand wizardry. I love this because it is, as I've come to learn, the sound of a city coming together. LA is one luck...

As a child, summer was always my favorite season. I was not exceptional, as I'm sure most of us can recall our fondness of what little freedom we had: no school, family vacations, and lots of time to play outdoors. My brother and I would construct wild imaginative adventures in our wooded backyard in the suburbs of Richmond, Virginia. We would envision a whole world under the canopy of the longleaf pine and green, gently swaying maple trees, which served to shelter us as we engaged in an epic clash of Union and Confederate forces, or as we crossed swords in some imaginary medieval landscape, or as we stormed the beaches of Sicily in 1944. Violence to me was not yet deadly serious, as it would become during my years in downtown San Jose, or as I now witness it in my daily life in Fresno. Because it was contained within the safety of our shared imagination, it could do us no lasting harm. Sure, we had times to enjoy the winter snow (and I have one early memory of crawling through...