I woke up in my mother’s apartment home in El Paso. I looked around for any signs of my brother but to no avail.
“You’ll find him Gibri,” I told myself. Gibri, was a name that my family would call me to show endearment. At that moment, I was giving it to myself. I needed to maintain clear of my mind going into a mental disarray. My father would always tell us to not think if its hurting us. I never understood what he meant by that, until now.
One other thing that he taught me as a child was to diagram my situation and take notes just as if I was reading a book with the aim of creating a book report for school. “You must understand the characters, their environments and their writer. The writer is splitting himself to create the characters and give them life, which represent his different perspectives in his own story – his own book” he would say. “Any given situation in life is the same, you are creating your own story your own path by the choices you make in life”
I took out a piece of paper and a pen from my backpack. I started to diagram my immediate story:
Characters:
1. Gibran, Josh, Grandmother’s spirit, Father, Mother, Son, Aunt Raquel, Don Tomas, Shadow-like Entity.
Situation:
My brother is missing.
Retrace steps:
1. At the park painting illegally
2. Something was looking at us
3. Went into the hills to che…
“I got it,” I exclaimed. I stopped writing. It was not someone looking at us; it was some-thing. The entity had been following me. He had been the one pulling at me to go visit my father. He wanted that so I could encounter and re-connect with my grandmother’s spirit.
My grandmother was indeed looking at me when my brother Josh asked her why we were there. I’ve had the answer all along within me. It is that which links us all together – the source of creativity. I am that encaged bird that Don Tomas brought out from my being. In order for me to be in a state of creativity, I must summon it.
“Time to paint,” I exclaimed with excitement.
Page 13
“You’ll find him Gibri,” I told myself. Gibri, was a name that my family would call me to show endearment. At that moment, I was giving it to myself. I needed to maintain clear of my mind going into a mental disarray. My father would always tell us to not think if its hurting us. I never understood what he meant by that, until now.
One other thing that he taught me as a child was to diagram my situation and take notes just as if I was reading a book with the aim of creating a book report for school. “You must understand the characters, their environments and their writer. The writer is splitting himself to create the characters and give them life, which represent his different perspectives in his own story – his own book” he would say. “Any given situation in life is the same, you are creating your own story your own path by the choices you make in life”
I took out a piece of paper and a pen from my backpack. I started to diagram my immediate story:
Characters:
1. Gibran, Josh, Grandmother’s spirit, Father, Mother, Son, Aunt Raquel, Don Tomas, Shadow-like Entity.
Situation:
My brother is missing.
Retrace steps:
1. At the park painting illegally
2. Something was looking at us
3. Went into the hills to che…
“I got it,” I exclaimed. I stopped writing. It was not someone looking at us; it was some-thing. The entity had been following me. He had been the one pulling at me to go visit my father. He wanted that so I could encounter and re-connect with my grandmother’s spirit.
My grandmother was indeed looking at me when my brother Josh asked her why we were there. I’ve had the answer all along within me. It is that which links us all together – the source of creativity. I am that encaged bird that Don Tomas brought out from my being. In order for me to be in a state of creativity, I must summon it.
“Time to paint,” I exclaimed with excitement.
Page 13
Concept Art for The Crow's Aura.
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